Sweet Inception
by virgoian
Summary: Journey with Eric in his "younger" days, when he was allowed to be a little more... playful. He courts Pamela out of her bed and into his coffin, claiming her as his very first progeny. Rated Lemonheads for sweet and sour moments.
1. The Senses: T o u c h

This is a _companion piece _to Drastic Possibilities (In Chapter 23, Eric has a vivid flashback of the first time he met Pamela, and in writing it, I aroused my desire to further explore their past). I have always been captivated by their (now) platonic relationship, but the idea of what it was like for them almost 200 years ago - now that is a treat that I could not pass up exploring. You do not need to have read Drastic Possibilities in order to keep up with this tale (though I am not encouraging that you do not - by all means, go ahead! ;-)). It is all in fun - do enjoy!

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**T O U C H  
**

Her fingers tremble. The simple task of lighting a candle is proving too much for my sweet. The clumsy girl has stumbled over several sentences, fallen into the desk chair – I caught her, of course, being discreet in my speed – bitten her tongue, and is now showing signs of possibly burning a tender fingertip. I stand off behind the bed, watching her between the posts. Frustration is gnawing at her eyes. It seems that with one more mistake, she will begin to cry; my vision lifts from her breasts to her porcelain face, and then down, down – I trace the slopes of her skirts, wetting my lips.

"Pamela."

My accent creeps under her teenaged nerves and work instantly to soothe them. The tone of my voice is a deliberate caress. I bring my eyes lazily back up to her face to see her searching for me through the moonlight glowing through the window. Pressing her lips, she dejectedly drops her busied hands to her sides. I touch the long, wooden column of the bed. My fingers trace its smooth outlines with teasing admiration. She watches my fingernails as they scratch gently at the red log, part embarrassed by her emotional distress, part anxious to explore our purpose for being here.

"We do not require light, darling," I whisper into the black room. The only luminance is draped across the back of my massive height. It is a wonder I can even fit in this room. The ceiling is not dramatically high, her room not amazingly large. But I am used to finer things, and while Pamela is certainly no lower class maiden, my nobility is far beyond that of these four walls. No matter – I am here, and this is where I have been aiming to locate myself since the night I first laid eyes on her.

"_You don't even look sixteen," I said with disbelief, though the smile on my face reeked of mischief. _

"_It is none of your concern if I am or not." _

_Snotty. My smile widened as I raked my eyes along her powder blue gown. It was a balmy summer night. Her hair was pinned up fashionably under an elaborate satin bonnet. She gasped and covered her breasts, which if she didn't wish to be seen, should have been covered. But they were not. The fluffy mounds were perfect and pushed up for attention by the disclosed corset and tiny fastens behind her back. _

"_You are not even of age," I teased. "How old are you?"_

"_As I said: none of your business."_

_A game? I chuckled darkly when she gathered up her skirts in her hands and nodded a polite, "Good night." Turning for the road, she stalked off with feigned annoyance. _

"_And you'd best think twice before you follow me, Mister, or I will surely report you," she hissed over her shoulder. _

_Oh, yes. This will be quite a treat. I let her get away, but I stalked her in the darkness. I was becoming bored with my usual dalliances and brothels. I wanted an attachment. She would be that._

"_Aren't you afraid to be walking this dark distance all by yourself?"_

_She shrieked and turned to her side, which she could have sworn had just been empty moments before. I clasped my wrist in my hand behind my back as I continued to stride through the vacant park. She was trouble. Unlike the kept women I refused to court. They were boring and bland, and there this young girl was – alone – walking herself home from God knows where. I turned my head back just a little to catch her expression. The scent of her fear was intoxicating. She turned for the opposite direction, the one in which we'd came, and I could just feel that she was going to run._

"_Little girl," I chuckled. She watched curiously but cautiously as I advanced on her. "There are worse things. I am simply offering you a guardian."_

"_I require no guardianship," she spat. _

_My nose told me otherwise._

_Little Pamela warily groped for the drunken gurgles not even two hundred feet into the distance. I could feel their heartbeats. Five young chaps – late from a ball. They were speaking of much nonsense, and the closer they came, the clearer my future progeny could hear them. _

"_Well," I sighed, adjusting my ruffled collar. "I tried. You have a safe evening, Ma'am." _

_And I bowed politely before turning to go._

_I could not help the smile on my face when her pulse quickened in my soul. The beat of her heart was so loud, I was certain all of downtown London could hear it. I walked slowly, but stopped when I felt her quickly come up beside me._

"_You missed me?" I smiled toward the men approaching us, never looking down to the girl at my right. She was afraid, and possibly wondering how she would have gotten out of this mess of a situation if I had not been there. "Don't worry; I'll protect you."_

_The pedestrians waved as we crossed; bottled liquor stuck to three of their ten hands. I nodded as Pamela clung to my arm. The feel of her warmth – I looked down at her face as she looked up at me, avoiding their admiring murmurs in passing. She held me tightly. We walked together, quietly, until I could no longer feel their hearts._

"_Explain to me how you would have fared in my absence," I stated flatly. Her head lowered in shame at my chastising. "You have no business outside at this time of night, spilling over in your dress." My eyes grab fleetingly at her breasts. It goes without saying that she was making me thirsty. "You are lucky that I am gentleman enough not to take you myself."_

"_I apologize for putting you through such trouble on my behalf," came her dejected whisper. Trouble? She had no idea what I was. Instead, I just smiled knowingly to myself and nodded._

"_No trouble, my darling."_

_She held onto me, though there were no other civilians within range. The further we walked, the angrier I became. Finally, I stopped dead in my tracks and pulled her to the front of me._

"_Were you seriously going to walk all this way by yourself?" I asked coldly. _

"_I've done it before," she snapped back. "If you don't wish to keep my company, I will no longer be needing you."_

"_If I walked away right now, you wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do with yourself." Yanking her close to me, I nosed her throat. "But I assure you that I have skill enough to figure you out without your assistance."_

_Releasing her, I shrugged my shoulders under my golden tailcoat and sighed. I thirsted for her, and this little playful banter was teasing my appetite. She scowled and stormed past me, holding her skirts from the ground as to not trip over them in her haste. I followed behind, and she checked over her shoulder frequently to make sure that I did. Once, I'd winked at her. She scowled with "frustration" and took bigger strides away from me. I even heard her shriek when I laughed._

"_Here," she whispered heatedly. "I am home. Thank you for your time, you must go now."_

_I covered her in the doorway of the townhouse entrance and breathed her in. "Is your father inside?" I whispered, holding my arms around her tiny waist. Oh, God, I'd wanted to make her everything and nothing all at once. _

"_Yes," she stammered. "Go, please." Her hands shoved effortlessly at my hard chest. "You will get us both in trouble," she managed to tell me urgently but softly._

"_Of course I won't," I promised. "Trust me, little girl. You will think of me while I am gone. You will remember. And I will come back for you."_

Not only had she believed me – she wanted me to follow through with my pledge to take her. She liked that I had dared to touch her. Dared to grab her close to me. She wanted more of that. It would have been her little secret… had I not been what I am. Had her desire for me not called to my sleeping mind throughout those five exciting days of separation. I could not ignore her – _ache_ – any longer than that. It was beginning to be… _difficult_. Even for me. So I watched her on that fifth night when she went to a play with a friend. The moon was high in the sky – a perfect crescent. I waited in the shadows of the neighborhood bakery, seeing that she was alone. Again. There wasn't much time to decide if I should be upset that she continued to sneak around without guardianship, or feel elated that I had the perfect opportunity to have her to myself. Quickly, I snatched her into the darkness and tucked her behind me. When I finally turned to meet her, she gasped, blushed, and frowned in attempts to conceal her excitement.

"_Have you missed me, my darling?" My lips traced the line of her jaw, down her throat. I wasted no time in touching the places in which I'd been fantasizing. Teasingly, I pulled away, testing the twinkle in her eyes at the gaudy ruby stone that dangled ever so elegantly by a long, golden-link chain. I held it in my fist between us, low enough for her to see. _

"_Is that for me?" she asked softly. There was caution in her voice as she tread those delicate waters. Was a handsome stranger freely offering her such riches? I could feel her wanting to decline the inappropriate gesture, but those glowing eyes were fixed on the blood-red gem with adolescent lust._

"_I suppose that I thought of you when I passed this in the jeweler's window on my way home. Do you desire it, my darling?"_

"_Oh yes," she cooed. "Yes, Sir, I do."_

_I took both ends of the lengthy, fragile chain in my big fingers as she turned her back to me. I brought one rope around the front of her and back round to meet its mate; she held up her hair for me with one shaky hand. My eyes traced her bare fingers – only one gold thumb ring adorn them – before I clasped the links and breathed in the bouquet of her excitement. Her pretty yellow hair fell back down around her shoulders, hiding the silken slopes of her delicious neck. I'd wanted to lick her throat; caress it with my tongue. I'd wanted to prepare her for my hungry mouth. _

_But it wasn't yet time. _

_When she turned again to face me, she was smiling down at the beautiful ruby jewel against her breasts. _

"_Allow me to get you something to eat," I whispered. My eyes were also on her breasts; it would appear as though I were talking directly to them._

"_Oh, I can't. You've spent enough on me, already, Sir."_

"_But I want to court you," I pleaded softly against her lips. The brush of my words caused a noticeable shiver in her. Pamela was so young and lovely; I couldn't wait to make her mine. Completely mine. "Let me."_

"_Okay… but," she began timidly, "I've already eaten."_

"_A drink, then?"_

_When I stood to my full height again, we eyed one another inquisitively. To skip these theatrics would have been very simple for me, but there was a deeper, selfless need to satisfy her that I had yet to encounter with another woman. I wanted a companion. I was… lonely… So I bought her a sweet drink – root beer and ice cream. She sipped the milky bronze elixir with delight until there was no more. _

"_It's gone." Her lips pouted. The coolness of her breath ran out into the air between us. I wanted to taste it as it tickled against my nose. Instead, I smiled. _

"_There will be more drinks," I promised. "Come. It is time for you to go home, my sweet. It is late for a young girl."_

"_But I'm not so young."_

_My devious smile spread immediately._

"_I'm nineteen," she'd leaned over to whisper in my ear. _

"_Are you… promised?"_

_Her eyes lowered and her cheeks reddened and I felt her blood quicken and I knew the answer. _

"_Darling," I soothed. "I will take you away from him."_

"_Stop," she laughed. But the sound was weak where it should have been joyous and full. _

"_You are not happy? Has he hurt you?" I breathed the words in undertones as she shook her head and turned away from me. _

"_He does not want me to be my own woman," she mutters shamefully. "He wishes for me to sit around and look pretty and have his children. He isn't romantic. He doesn't love me."_

"_You want to be loved, darling?" I'd asked this with amusement, and while I was not looking for love, nor was I capable of giving it the way she needed, it was an interesting prospect. I bit my lip. Her silence translated embarrassment. "Come," I said again, dismissing the subject at hand altogether. "Your parents must worry."_

_My eyes widened when she stood erect, her chin held defiantly high with dignity and poise. "I am a woman."_

And here she is, a _woman_, standing before me with blatant physical fear toward the night's agenda. I have no doubt that Pamela has partaken in a kiss or two, because where I've found her, and the times – no perfect girl would wander out so late, now would they? It was she who invited me inside. Her want for me has been adorable to witness over these past three weeks. I did not press her to enter her room or her home. I teased and withheld, as it was my dear Pamela who whined in the doorway night after late night.

"_Not tonight." I kissed her waiting lips, sucking them until they stung with yearning._

"_But when?" she begged. "Please, Eric. Come inside, just once. Stay with me. I miss you so. My bed is cold."_

"_Pamela," I chided, a gentle laugh lacing her name. "Soon. Soon, I promise," I whispered in her ear._

Quietly, I remove my jacket. Pamela watches me as I drape it across the vanity chair so that I may quickly return to her. She comes when I beckon her to me with a finger, squeezing the ruffles of her skirts in her unsettled hands. I touch the ruby that has kissed her breasts since the night I'd gifted it to her. A little gasp flutters from her lips; I've traced her skin in a very sensual place. Watching her eyes as I smooth the swell of one breast with my thumb, I struggle to contain my thirst.

Without uttering a word, I take her hand in mine to bring it to my lips where I kiss the inside of her palm gingerly. She flinches and quivers in my hold, but her eyes never wander from mine. I kiss and kiss, trailing down her wrist. Her breath hovers in her throat because she is afraid to make a single sound that will interrupt the sweetness of my attentions. How can a kiss on the hand feel this way? How can it be so warm, so soft, so perfect? I tease her skin with the tips of my teeth, careful not to lose control of my fangs against her sensitive, youthful flesh. A shudder ripples through the length of her arm – have I discovered a patch of skin that is more susceptible to touch than others? Her lips part in wonder when she feels me linger above that gentle pulse right beneath the inside of her wrist. I could bite down just a little… _easy_… I shut my eyes, giving a peck to the beating vein instead.

I want blood, and her scent is fresher than most humans'. The younger they are, the cleaner their blood. The red stream does not carry the tainting affects of ale and opium and other recreational naughtiness. Sniffing her scented skin, I use my free hand to draw her close to me by the slope of her waist. The space between us now sealed with our bodies, I can now feel the fullness of her excitement as it thumps against the front of me; each heartbeat is an invitation to an intimate union that will satisfy me in a different way – a way that she is completely unaware of.

Bending to kiss her, I taste the fullness of her lips. My hand trails up the bareness of her arm, over the curve of her shoulder, and up her neck until it finds a pleasant grip on her loose hair. I grip it gently as not to hurt or startle her. In turn, I have placed the fingers that had just been near my lips up into my own golden mane. She flinches in my hold, stumbling through the kiss as my hair slips against her palm. Chuckling, I break away, leaving a very confused and frustrated little Pamela beneath me.

"Did I do something wrong?" Her eyes immediately become wet.

"You are doing everything as you should." My smile does not fade as I take my hands against the sides of her full breasts, pulling her closer. Her softness is a fairytale. I want her to be bare, open, and spread out for me so that I may explore that softness. Reaching upward, I finger her bodice. "I want to see you, Pamela," I whisper as I lower my face to her bosom. She gasps; my brazenness is much for her. My eyelashes flutter against her skin as I place doting kisses along the flawless mounds of supple fluff. When my lips fall in between, she takes my hair by force to urge me closer.

"Shall I undress?" comes her shaky voice. I smile.

"What a darling offer, Pamela," I tease, "but I would like to do that part. I want to enjoy unwrapping the gift of your lovely little body before I lay it out on your bed." Her heart catches in bewilderment; did I just say that to her? Oh yes, Pamela, I have spoken dirty, but that is only the beginning of my foreplay. "You want to be mine, don't you?"

"Yes," she nods frantically. "Oh yes, please, Eric. I want to be yours like we discussed."

"Good girl, Pamela. You are such a treat. Please, my darling: turn around so that I may free you of these clothes. I want to touch you more, and they are hiding you from me."

"Okay," she whispers as she faces her back to me. I am grinning from ear to ear as my fingers artistically begin unfastening the silk buttons lining her spine. Inch by inch, patch after patch of kissable skin can be seen through the sheer fibers of the undergarments. It is an annoyance to remove the layers of petticoats and padding, but once she is down to her chemise, drawers, and corset, a sliver of sunlight beams over the horizon of promise. Slowly, I weave my fingers under and through the tight laces. She quivers with anticipation; I am a man, and she is in her underwear. Playfully, I trace my nose along the elegant dip between her neck and shoulder. I can hear her breathing – she struggles to keep the nervous breaths a secret, but the raggedness in her panting is so clear in my ears. Cool lips against the exposed silkiness of her back are enough to make her squirm right in my hold. I drop the corset to the wood floor and sigh. Her breasts, loose under the chemise, call to me. My hands snake up and down her sides as I kiss the gooseflesh beneath her hair. The swell of my cock strains against my tight trousers.

"Pamela," I wince. She hitches in a line of air when I cup her breasts in my hands. Pressing her into me, I lick her shoulder. My palms and fingers tenderly massage the fullness within them. With the chemise between our flesh, I cannot obtain the depth of this sensation. Rubbing, touching, holding – I play with her until her head slumps back against my chest and she closes her eyes.

"That's it, Pamela," I whisper near her ear. "This is a special, special night for us. Are you calm?"

"I am," she breathes back.

"Good; so good, my sweet." My hands slip away from her lushness to squeeze her waist, again. "You trust me?" I ask lowly. She hesitates in answering, wanting to concentrate solely on my fingers tickling up under the thin, white material of her undergarment until –

"Oh!"

"My hands?"

"They're – they're cold!" she stammers.

"Ah, yes, Pamela. Only because you are so hot against them." I nibble her earlobe, feeling her nipples with the pads of my needy fingers. I tease the responsive tips with my thumbs, waking them to my presence. "All mine, yes?" I breathe in her fear, her excitement, her undeniable arousal. She nods against me, craning her neck to capture my lips in a desperate kiss.

"Of course, Eric," she pants. "I need to see you. Please."

This timing is superb, as I have just caught a flicker of myself in the mirror – or lack thereof. The clothing fitted to my tall body moves and shifts in the silvery reflection, but it is because of the silver used in these things that my weakness disallows me to see what I look like. Shifting us, I place her on the bed. She reaches up for me as I carefully remove her chemise. Hair flutters back down to her naked shoulders when it is freed of its entanglement in the hemmed neckline. I smile when her hands reach up to protect herself from my hungry eyes. Kneeling on the floor between her legs, I touch her bare stomach and chuckle with delight.

"Did you not enjoy my touch?" I quip.

"I did, Eric," she promises. "I never felt anything like it."

"I can do more… if you show yourself to me. Do you trust me, Pamela?" I ask as I nuzzle the fabric covering her leg.

"I trust you," she whispers.

Lifting my eyes to her hands, I suck my bottom lip into my mouth between my teeth. My gums ache where my fangs throb deep inside. Every crevice of my mouth pulses with the desire to feed. Swallowing, I rise up just enough to take a seat on the bed beside her. Immediately, her gaze falls to the thick bulge against my leg beneath my dark-colored pantaloons. Ah – she has discovered manhood. By the look on her face, she can't have seen anything so – _massive_ – on a human male in all her short little life.

"Eric!" she gasps, unable to pry her eyes from the indentation.

"Touch it," I say in my best masculine rasp.

"May I?" Her lashes flutter innocently as she blinks between my face and my cock.

"I insist, dear one. It is here to please you."

She is timid at first, but I am very patient. Her primary focus shifts from shielding her breasts to cautiously exploring the plump rope of arousal beneath my trouser leg. Encouraging her through this new adventure, I instantly push her hair over one bare shoulder and begin to kiss her neck, fondling one breast in my hand as I pull her closer to me with the other. Sweet little fingers trace the outline of my member. When I feel her retreating, I pull from her bosom to seize her wrist in my hand.

"Oh, Eric," she sighs, shaking her head with discouragement. "That will not fit."

"Shhh, but it will, my darling. And I will show you how very soon."

"Please explain it to me, again," she whispers. The sound of her voice is enchanting. I kiss her lips before parting to stand. She shifts to follow me, but I cannot have that.

"There will be no more explaining, my darling. Only touching and kissing and fucking."

"_Fucking?"_ Her bright eyes flash at the dirty language I've selected.

"Yes, my sweet. We talked about this. I am going to put my cock in a special, special place and make you feel warm and happy and good inside."

"Oh, yes, I remember you telling me those things." Her eyes twinkle as she watches me disrobe. "How could I forget? You made it sound so… _delicious_."

Smiling, I drop my pantaloons to the floor and meet her back at the bed before she can become overwhelmed with the outstretched length and girth of my thick member. The innocence in her face is so potent and rich that I cannot stifle my laugh. Genuine panic radiates from her heated skin. Witnessing my amusement in her fear, Pamela frowns. A mist of tears presents itself over her hazy eyes. I swallow my humor, bringing a cool kiss to her lips.

"Aw, darling – I was only teasing. Here," I whisper as my hand guides hers to my cock.

"It won't fit, Eric," she panics, feeling its substantial weight as her fingers roam up and down, encircling and exploring. "I just know it."

"Squeeze it, Pamela." She does. "See? It is soft, though it is hard. It will fit inside… and if you lie back for me, I can show you just how."

Chewing her lip, she nods. I hook my hands inside her bloomers and pull them all the way past her ankles. The scent of her cunt wafts sweetly down to my nose. It takes all of my strength not to lower my fangs and thrust them into the soft patch of skin hiding her coveted femoral artery.

I wrap myself around her quickly, covering her navel with my mouth. Cold, wet kisses take the smooth surfaces of her tiny stomach.

"You need no corset," I mumble against her skin. "Your body is so sweet and perfect, and I want to make it familiar with my mouth…" I swallow a rosy nipple, suckling its soft, stiff warmth. "My fingers…" She writhes against my voyaging fingertips. Feeling, touching, teasing… I trail along the curves of her waist, watching her face all along. I want to see her reactions as I stroke the waves of her womanly sculpture. When my hands slip under the curve of her back and down to her lower cheeks, she withdraws into herself beneath.

"And this…"

Precious warmth reaches out to the head of my cock when I brush it against her silky opening. As expected, she shies away, but I reclaim her in my arms immediately.

"Are you afraid, Pamela?" Kissing my way past her breasts, I seek the warmth of her neck.

"No – n- no."

Her hands reach into my hair in attempts to distract from her stammering vocals. I chuckle; sweet darling – it is not meant to be feared. Lifting myself on one strong arm above her, I reach my seeking fingers down to the soft, blonde tuft of hair between her legs. My eyes study her face. The part of her lips. The sparkle in her eyes.

"Soft. So soft, Pamela. May I go inside?"

"_Yes."_

I smile. She wants to want me, but it is very frightening for her. My finger does not seep far. I hadn't expected it to; the presence of her maidenhead is undeniably in tact. Gently, I feel the wet suppleness of that special little tunnel. With the strategic drop of my thumb, I brush up just enough of her secretions to make for lubrication against the swell of her throbbing clitoris.

"OH!" I wait. Her eyes search mine warily. "It is _most_ sensitive, Eric," she whines.

"As it should be," I whisper huskily. "If it has never been touched. Has it been touched, Pamela?"

"Well, no." Even in the dark, I see her cheeks fill with blood.

"You've never pleasured yourself, darling? Never became… curious?"

"No… I wouldn't quite know what to do, anyways."

Oh, she is really, very innocent. A grin reaches through the lower half of my face. "This, my dear, is what you would do. Now pay close attention, in case you must do this for yourself while I am away." My thumb slowly circles the erect tip. She flinches each time, squirming against the unfamiliar contact. We need to be closer. I lower myself back down on one forearm, never losing the rhythm in my fingers. It is delightful to hear her whimpers of both delight and frustration. This is very new and she is exceedingly excitable.

"More. _Please_," she adds timidly in my ear.

"You must open you legs for me; don't be shy."

"Here…" But she only parts them just a bit, and it is not a dramatic enough change to satisfy me.

"_More."_

"_Eric."_ She laughs nervously. I fix her nerves with a kiss. I part her knees with my own, widening the warm space between us. Right away, my embedded finger fits more comfortably in the small space that is provided. She fidgets and relaxes, sighing when my lips wrap around one pretty nipple.

"Now, please," she begs.

"Soon, my sweet. Remember what I told you? I must prepare you for me so that it will be more comfortable for you."

"_And then what?" She giggled in my lap. I kissed her neck, gripping her to me in the park bench. It was late, and we were alone. _

"_I will use my fingers to open you. My mouth to tease you. I will touch all of your secret, secret places," I whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "But you must promise me that you will be very quiet, so that your father won't hear us."_

"_Oh, Eric! I will be so quiet!"_

"_Just like you are now?"_

"_I'll be so, so quiet." She had rearranged her voice softly – so soft, I felt a flutter of arousal low in my groin. _

"_We will do many naughty things together in your bed, Pamela."_

"_I want to do them," she affirmed. "Tell me when we can, Eric."_

"_I will make you my lover in due time, my sweet. You must be patient."_

She is almost ready. The once intrusive demands of my fingertips are now welcomed caresses against and inside of her cunt. I insert a second finger, widening her.

"It is very important to make you very wet," I breathe huskily against her face, controlling her rabid thrashing about beneath me. My kisses have become hungrier; more demanding. "I will slide inside and ride you so slow and deep, but first…"

"First?" she urges.

"First you will cum."

"Huh?"

"This:"

Building. Building. Warm. "Eric." Sweet. "Eric – _ah_ – " Building. _"Eric."_ Closer. Closer. Pulling. Her legs tremble around my waist. "Sssss," she winces. _"Oh!"_ My fingers – faster. Quicker. Magically fluttering so unrealistically rapid against her sensitive bud.

"You must give in to it," I instruct her, because though she may not be aware of this, she is retreating her clit away from the command of my attentions with tiny, tiny jerks of subconscious muscular control. "Bite your lip and close your eyes. Feel me, Pamela. I am touching you where no man has _ever_ touched you."

The moment she bursts, she runs away from me, scrambling for the pillows. She does not want to be touched there again. It is far too sensitive for such things. I climb up her legs, dragging my mouth along her waist, kissing, kissing – I devour the line of her jaw, the curve of her chin, grazing her throat with my teeth.

"Did you like that?"

"Oh, Eric. I've never felt anything like it before."

Chuckling, I lift her legs around my waist. She crosses her ankles behind my back, but her eyes quickly shift from excited and eager to worried and afraid, again. Crooning against her face, I caress her waist, whispering sweet things in her ear. It is time to be delicate, now.

"Will it hurt?" she questions shakily. I shush her with a kiss.

"I will be very careful, Pamela. I promise you will enjoy this."

"I'm really scared that it won't fit, Eric."

"Trust me," I whisper, melding her lips with mine, again. She hitches in a breath and holds it. I focus on her eyes as I guide my head against her slippery opening. "Are you ready, my sweet, dear one? Are you ready for me to make you mine?"

"I'm ready – _please_ – hurry, please."

"_Shhh… _Remember what I told you, my love? You must be calm. Be calm, Pamela. Relax. I am right here; I will not leave you."

Nodding her head in understanding, she takes a slow, lazy breath. Patiently, I wait. I pet her and kiss her, bringing the silk blanket over our heads for privacy.

"Is that better?" I ask against her lips.

"Yes," she stammers. I stroke her legs, kneading away her overwhelming need to cry.

"Everything is perfect, Pamela. You are doing so well. Shhh, shhh," I soothe, pressing the fullness of my head into her small, constricted center. "It's all right, Pamela. See? That's it, my darling. That's it." Barely, I rock back and forth against that minor patch of wet warmth, brushing against her hymen, preparing both her and I for her deflowering. "Just a little pressure…" I grab her close to me as I push through the thin membrane, claiming her virginity and her innocence in one careful thrust.

"Ah!"

"You are perfect." I pull out just a little, easing tenderly along the clenched muscles of her moist walls.

"Wait – wait." I stop at once. Her voice is a hiccup of emotions; she bites her lip with determination, but the tears spill over her cheeks, regardless. Looping an arm around her waist, I kiss her face with uncomplaining lips. I will wait as long as she needs. "Okay." She nods her little head, consenting to my continuation.

I deepen my thrusts at an even, careful pace. The feel of her arms wrapped around my neck with need fills me with a sense of responsibility that I have never encountered. Hugging her, I sigh. She arches against me, gradually opening her thighs with each cautious plunge until they are completely spread beneath me.

"Feel me," I whisper. We both concentrate on the sensation of my cock stretching her in a perfect, new way. "Is it fitting, Pamela?"

"I – I – "

"Feel me, darling. Filling you. It isn't unpleasant. Just a little different. Do you feel it, my love? My cock inside your most private, secret place?"

"Oh, yes," she whimpers. "Yes."

"Good girl, Pamela. I told you, remember? I told you that I would make a perfect fit, just for me. Only I will fit inside you this way. Ah, Pamela – you are so tight and sweet, just for me. Mine; all mine."

I kiss her neck, holding still. The grip – the surrounding, clinging grip around the embedded inches of my cock is a blissful thing. I rest there for a while to allow for her to adjust to my imposing girth.

"Sweet girl," I hum. "You are doing all the right things, Pamela. Just a little more… Ah – yes, my love." My eyes clench within the privacy of the side of her face as I combat the desperate need to burst inside her. She squeezes my arms in a panic – this is all so, so new. I steady myself, humming against her neck. "Good girl," I encourage her. "Shhh, you're so good. So good, Pamela."

I do not feed her the complete length of my cock, and when I feel the familiar awakening stirring in my loins, I slowly pull away so that I do not stain her with my blood. Growling, I soil the white sheet beneath us, shuddering my way through the euphoric waves of my orgasm.

"Come back," she pleads, pulling at me. "Isn't there more? Don't go yet, please, Eric. _Please_."

"I am here, Pamela. Do not cry. I wouldn't dare leave you so soon." I kiss her lips quickly before raising myself from the bed. "I'm just going to clean this up for you, all right? Tell me, my darling – where do you keep your linens?"

"In the hallway," she hiccups. "In the closet next to my room."

I rise to my feet, stepping into my trousers with ease.

"But you must be quiet," she whispers urgently. "My parents…"

"Hush, now. No one will know that I'm here, do not worry, Pamela. I will be right back to you."

My vampire stealth allows for me to retrieve a folded pile of bed sheets with graceful ease. I return to Pamela as promised, never making a sound. I am so quiet, in fact, that I startle her upon my arrival.

"Just me." I smile as I give her a warm kiss. "Come here, darling."

Intently, I watch as she scoots across the bed to meet me at its edge. Knowing of her delicate condition, I draw her to my side on the floor, keeping her close to my stable body with an arm around her waist as I yank the bloodied linens from her mattress.

"What will you do with them?" she asks lowly, watching as I ball them in a knot against the closeness of my chest.

"I will burn them in the morning. We will sleep on these." I direct my attention to the fresh sheets I so recently retrieved, unfolding them in a hurry so that I can lay her back down. Quickly, I spread them out along the bed, tucking them in all the right places. Pamela holds on to a wooden column as she watches me right the bed for her. When the domestic task is complete, I take her hands in mine. The full, passionate stare I receive when her eyes reach mine is enough to make me want to take her all over again.

"Come, my sweet." I guide her into the warmth of the blankets. She is almost afraid when I take more than a moment to join her, but it is only because I am admiring her lovely body as I watch it disappear under the covers.

Not many words are exchanged. I take it that she is reflecting on our joining, remembering what it was like for her, though it wasn't even ten minutes ago that I'd been buried inside that secret, magical place. I snuggle close to her, petting her hair, kissing her soft skin. I understand when she falls asleep in my arms without saying good night or asking how long I will stay or when we will see one another, again. My Pamela knows that if she awakens later on that I will still be holding her, and she has an intuition inside of her that assures her that we will see one another again very, very soon, possibly as soon as tomorrow night. It is late; her body's clock has already strained against its natural sleeping time, and the energy I've pulled from her during our love making was also taxing on her ability to stay awake to chat with me.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, I kiss from her chin to her forehead. I am gone before the sun rises, but when she awakens in a cotton nightgown beside my cursive script and diamond brooch atop the pillow where the indent of my heavy head once rest, I know that she understands that I wish I could have been with her when she first opened her eyes to the morning light.

_My love, _

_You are officially a "woman," now. Can you see me smiling at the look on your face? I know that you are pouting. I wish that I could be there to kiss your perfect lips and make you smile again. How do you feel, Pamela? I am certain that you miss me, this morning, but it is all right, darling – I will come to you again, tonight. Do not look for me. You need your rest; I will be showing you something very, very special when I return. Something I am certain you will enjoy very much. I need for you to take a warm bath before you get into bed. Wear a simple nightgown. Will you do that for me, my girl? I dressed you in the first thing I could get my hands on, before I left, but I did see something blue and silky in the corner of your drawer. Oh yes, my sweet – you know of it. I want you in that when I revisit. _

_Do relax today, Pamela. Drink lemonade in your bed and read a romance novel. Yes, I saw that dirty book on your desk. Have you been fantasizing about me since the night we met? Pamela – you could have told me such things. But it is all right. You may tell me all about your little story tonight. I like it very much when you whisper in my ear, though I am sure your little tale will be very child-appropriate in comparison to the sweet and dangerous things I will do to you, tonight. No, no, my dear – do not be afraid. These are good things… do anticipate them. I will see you soon, lover._

_- E_


	2. T a s t e

**T A S T E  
**

I awaken with a start. Pamela longs for me, and I do not wish to keep her waiting any more than I already have. The night is young, so I won't go to her so soon. I need for her household to be quiet and her parents to be sleeping before I make that special visit. I wash quickly, as water still has a way of being uncomfortable and unpleasant against my skin. My kind has many supernatural strengths, but even the most powerful of men must bear the weight of weaknesses. Water is one of the very dangerous substances of earth's natural offerings to us vampires, and at all costs, most of us must avoid it. With age, I have grown to withstand it and have built up quite an immunity to it over time, but I do try my best to steer clear of it when necessary. Dressing in my usual fancy attire, I slip on a red tailcoat over my white waistcoat and black pantaloons and tie my hair back in a bright, red ribbon. I bother with no top hat, but I do pull on a pair of clean, white gloves after slipping my feet into a smooth, all black pair of tasseled Hessians; I grab my wood and gold walking stick and head out into the world.

I think I shall bring Pamela more treats, tonight. I stop by the bakery to purchase tiny chocolate soufflés and carry them in a paper bag to one of the nearby clothing parlors to pick her an elaborate, colorful Kashmir shawl. She will enjoy my gifts.

The hours pass, and it is around nine when I finally slip into the shadows to remain unseen. I do not want the curious eye on my back as I head to Pamela's home. Silent and invisible, I snake my way up to my beloved's window and give it a light tap. Her face appears immediately, excited and curious about the sound. I know that she has been waiting impatiently all day for this moment to come. She searches for the pebble in which I must have cast up toward the pane to grab her attention, but there is nothing, and she frowns in her confusion. I smile, tapping again. The tip of my fingernail dings against the glass. Frustrated, Pamela throws open the window and peeks out her head with purpose. I close my eyes when her hair brushes by my cheek. She cannot decipher my caliginous form, as I am a mist against the black night sky.

"Eric…?"

Her eyes sadden, and I slip inside past her shoulder, taking form by her bed. She lingers half outside, half in, searching for me with determination.

I set down the treats on her bed and rest my walking stick on the floor. She turns to me instantly, having heard the gentle sound.

"_Eric,"_ she gasps. The window shuts with a soft _bang_ and I smile at her as she comes rushing toward me, throwing herself into my arms. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"Shhh," I soothe, holding her to me and petting her as to ease the distress that is quickly building. "I told you I would return."

"How did you get inside?" I brush her hair from her face as I appreciate the pretty blue sheen of her nightgown. The fine, satin material wraps her lovely body in a silk cocoon. Every perfect curve is visible underneath.

"_Mmm,"_ I croon, running my hands along her waist and up to her breasts. She shuts her eyes to focus on the gentle caress of my fingers as I bend low to kiss her cheek. "Does it matter how I am here, my sweet? Or does it matter that I am?" Stealing a kiss, I pull us apart and sigh. "Did you like my letter?"

"Yes I did, Eric. I read it over and over all day, imagining what ever you could mean by showing me something 'special' like you promised."

I nod. A sly smile takes form at the corners of my lips. "And the brooch?"

"Also beautiful. How ever shall I repay you for your kindness?" She grips the collar of my tailcoat between her fingers. My palms stroke her arms as she looks up at me with warm, dewy eyes. "What did you mean… _dangerous?_" she whispers up at me, referring to the end of my little love note.

"Patience, my sweet," I chuckle. "The time will come for that. Look to your bed. I think that you will find some things there that you will like."

The idea of gifts – more gifts – sends a beam of light through Pamela's young face. She turns for the concealed goodies, grabbing the bag of chocolates in a hurry.

"I _knew_ I smelled something sweet," she muses. "Share them with me?"

Touching the small of her back, I come to her side, full of both curiosity and delight. The chocolates do smell sweet; I would like to watch her as she tastes them.

"No thank you, my dear. These are just for you. Here," I whisper, taking a chocolate treat in my fingers so that I can feed it to her myself. "Savor it."

With a busy mouth, her only form of communication is through her eyes. I stare deep into those dark blue disks as she chews, feeling the satisfied hum of her blood just beneath her fair skin. Wetting my lips, I hiss under my breath when she pulls my fingers past her lips and over the wet, sticky tip of her tongue.

"Pamela." My smile is full of teeth and mischief. "I didn't know you liked to put things in your mouth."

Her response is an innocent blush through her cheeks as she wraps my fingers in a moist veil of warmth. Testing her, I venture deeper – deep enough to make her gag. Her slender hands grip my wrist for me to stop, but I am already retreating. Studying the physical manifestations of her emotions, I run my thumb along her bottom teeth and push down against them as to weigh the strength in her jaw. The little space her mouth provides is surely incapable of mastering my entire cock, but it shall be fun to watch her try.

"My sweet, how would you like for me to share a secret with you? I will show you something very _dirty_."

"Oh, yes," she coos. "Show me, Eric. Please show me."

"Now you must promise me that you will not try this special trick with anyone else. This is just for you and I. Do you promise, Pamela?"

Nodding eagerly, she steps closer so that I can tell her in my most quiet voice what this special, naughty secret is. Kissing down her face, I pinch her nipples through the pretty blue nightdress. Oh, yes, Pamela. I have many, many secrets to share with you, tonight.

"I promise," comes her breathy words between my lips when we meet for a chocolaty kiss. The milky pastry has left such an exquisite taste on my little one. She smiles up at me in anticipation, awaiting my next words while she watches me play with the sweet essence her soufflé has gifted to my very picky palate.

"Grab that quilt over there." I nod toward the colorful counterpane draping over the small window seat. Hurriedly, she retrieves the downy bundle of fabric and returns to me. "Now place it on the floor. Right here," I guide her, removing my tailcoat. The bedpost will make for an excellent brace against my back. Resting alongside it, I stand above Pamela as she arranges the quilt at my feet.

"What is next, Eric?" She smiles. This is so new and exciting and she is ready to learn.

"Get down on your knees. Yes, that is very nice, Pamela. Now undo my pants, my sweet."

"Oh!" I smile at her rosy cheeks when she comes face-to-face with that strong line of cock beneath my pantaloons. "I don't want to hurt it, Eric."

"It is not a baby bird, Pamela. Take it out of my pants. Good girl."

"Eric," she whispers, fondling and exploring the smooth skin, the big vein, and the mysterious warmth.

"Yes, my darling?"

"It is most beautiful."

I smile. This will be more fun than I'd anticipated. "Why don't you whisper that to it."

"Eric!" she giggles.

"Go on. It has missed you, Pamela. You must be kind to it."

"Does it have a name?"

"You may call it whatever you like." Stuffing my fingers into her hair, I bite my bottom lip in waiting.

"Well," she begins softly, stroking and gripping with gentle care, "I missed you today, Lord Maidenholder." I chuckle. "I could not shake you from my thoughts. No matter how hard I tried, you were all I desired and all I could ever want for. Mother caught me daydreaming more than a few times," she whispers secretively. "Oh, my Lord – I thought she would know about us! I was so, so certain that she could just look at me and know that… know that you had touched me."

She lifts her face to mine for any small semblance of faith, but my features are hard and my eyes are dark. Unsettled, she turns away and refocuses her doting attention on Lord Maidenholder. I hadn't meant to frighten her or give her the impression that I was not pleased, because I was; our little game was simply doing its job in making me very, very aroused. Now, my poor Pamela is flustered. She frowns when she cannot reclaim her tempo in the one-sided exchange. My fingertips react, massaging her scalp reassuringly. I do not want her to cry, and it seems as though I have ruined our fun by letting my trueness show.

"Lord Maidenholder missed his Lady throughout the day, as well," I manage to tell her. Acting quickly is one of my many, many talents.

"He did?" She perks up at this. I relax again.

"Oh, yes. Very much. He desired his Lady and the warmth she shared with him, last night. In fact, he _incessantly_ reminded me of the perfect, perfect way in which his Lady held him deep inside her. He is shy in asking your permission to allow him the wondrous honor of allowing him to visit with his Lady again, tonight."

"Oh, my Lord," she gasps. My fangs slip down behind my lips when she nuzzles her cheek against my cock. "I was afraid that you wouldn't want me after the way I behaved, last night."

"And what way was that, my sweet?"

"I cried and made a mess and was oh so small; you could barely fit, I knew you wouldn't. I displeased you."

"You may make it up to me with a kiss…"

Her wet eyes search mine again. This time, I return all the warmth I can muster.

"A kiss," I whisper, urging her along. "A kiss will make everything right."

Cautiously, because this just _must_ be the _sweet, dangerous_ thing I mentioned in my letter and she just _has_ to do this right, Pamela brings her pretty lips to the tip of Lord Maidenholder and presses a full, lingering kiss around the protective skin.

"So sweet, Pamela," I murmur.

"Did I do it right?" she asks worriedly.

"Yes, my dear. But there are other things you may do with it as well."

"Tell me of them," she demands. I chuckle at her brazenness.

"There is a shield of skin covering a very sensitive place down there. You must pull it back…" I watch her in awe as she does this with expertise. "Naughty girl," I whisper. "Were you withholding from me?"

"Huh?" Her wary attention fixes to my face.

"Have you done this before, Pamela?" I tease.

"No," she gasps, pulling her hand away instantly. "What would make you think such a thing, Eric?"

"There, there," I soothe. "I was only kidding, Pamela. I know that you are a good girl… even though you have the strangest will to be perceived otherwise. Come back to me, darling. Shhh, only teasing." I smile down at her as I stroke her temple with my thumb, squeezing her hair between my fingers. It takes her a moment to recover, but I am happy when she does. The promise of her lips around those sensitive glands has warmed my loins excessively.

"Good girl, Pamela," I whisper when she obediently holds back the warm layer of foreskin. Mechanically, her fist begins to pump and pull the length of my shaft. Her eyes stick to my prepuce as it comes back and forth over the head of my cock, hiding and revealing, hiding and revealing. I swallow against my thirst and force my fangs back up into my gums until they camouflage with the rest of my teeth. No sense in frightening Pamela a third time.

"Lord Maidenholder is very, very sensitive there," I instruct her. She nods as she continues to circle her thumb around the once hidden mushroom of skin.

"May I kiss it again, my Lord?"

"Please," I beg under my breath. _"Pamela."_ Hissing her name, I watch and feel the wet kiss upon my cock. Her eyes flash with alarm. _No,_ my dear.

"Have I hurt you?"

"Quite the opposite, darling. A little kiss doesn't hurt."

"How about a _big_ kiss?" Her smile is naughty.

"Lord Maidenholder would very much enjoy that."

"Would you like it if I kissed you again, my Lord?" she asks my member. Her warm hands stroke and squeeze it as she rubs her pretty cheeks along its thick length.

"He says that you will be rewarded handsomely for your kindness."

My legs tense instantly when she shoves her mouth around the velvety tip of my staff. Her tongue does a little dance around it, and she retreats to weigh my liking. When I bite my lip at her, she takes that as a sign of approval. Her lips and tongue proceed to work together along the responsive skin, exploring the depths of its receptiveness.

The tender moistness of her mouth is very much an unexpected treat. I had not planned to do this tonight with Pamela, but why hadn't I thought of it, before? Her eagerness to learn proves that she will make a good lover and vampire. She will mind me and be unhappy with herself when she displeases me. My little Pamela's eyes fill with tears the moment she imagines that something is wrong. She is a little dramatic, but I enjoy her theatrics.

My cock now sticky with her spit and craving a different hole, I gently tug her away by her blonde hair. It is straight and smooth, and feels as though she gave a good grooming to it before I came.

"This is very pretty, Pamela," I tell her. "And you did a wonderful job. Lord Maidenholder is awfully pleased."

"Thank you, Eric. I only want to make you happy."

"As do I, my dear. Which is why I have chosen you and only you."

"You have?" I nod my head. Hope swells in her eyes – _could this be real? _they seem to ask. "Just me?"

"Just you, Pamela. Please – lie on the bed for me."

She does this quickly, leaving the quilt on the floor in a messy pile. I step over it as I unfasten, untie, and unzip my way out of my clothing. They are left in a heap beside the counterpane.

Planting my hands firmly into the bed sheets, I lean over Pamela to give her a kiss. My tongue rolls over hers, rewarding me with that same sweet, sweet taste of her saliva and the chocolate treat she had consumed not long ago. She is lying prettily across the length of the bottom of the bed, and her legs part instinctively when my hands run up under the long, silk skirt of her gown. With her feet pressed against the mattress and her knees up toward the ceiling, she trusts me to explore the soft, sensitive place I'd claimed the night before.

Rubbing the insides of her thighs, I kiss her cheek. She melts against my lips, squirming as she begins to pant quietly; all the while, my mouth is traveling the curve of her ear, the warmth of her neck – _tasting_.

"Eric?" Her shaky voice stains the stillness around us. I lick the line of her jaw before pulling my face from hers, granting my full attention. "Thank you for showing me that special, sweet, dangerous thing you just did."

Smiling, I put my fingers through the golden fluff between her legs. "We had fun, didn't we? But that was not it, my sweet."

"No?" More panic. I chuckle, easing her back down against the bed.

"Easy," I whisper. "Pamela; I do not want this night to devolve into a back and forth of fear and comfort. You need to relax with me so that you will enjoy me. Everything is as it should be." Her eyes close when I kiss her forehead. The wet sloshing of her heart is so difficult to ignore. If I were with a partner knowledgeable of my nature, I would not mind her alarm at all. It smells nice and the blood runs quicker when one is afraid, but because I am exercising a great deal of practice to contain my thirst, it is only teasing when the unannounced rise and falls of her pulse assault my senses. "You weren't misbehaved, last night, as you care to believe," I tell her kindly. "I didn't mind that you cried, Pamela. We shared a very intimate thing, and you were very, very brave with me."

"I was?"

"I think so." My fingers brush her honeyed skin. "You smell so sweet, Pamela. It is time for me to show you that special gift." Her hands slip into my hair to untie the ribbon that holds it together out of my face. Sighing, I flutter my eyes closed against her face. Thick and wavy bundles of gold fall over my shoulders. She kisses my lips, running her fingers through the mane of hair hanging above her. "It is a private thing," I say against her lips before wrapping them in a lingering caress. "But you will tell all of your friends about what I am going to do to you, my darling. They will envy you and wish that they could have what I am about to give to you."

"What is it, Eric?" she begs. "_Please_ – I cannot stand it any longer."

She blinks, sending hot tears down her cheeks. I lick them away eagerly. "Patient, patient," I whisper. "There is no rush, little Pamela."

"I'm _frustrated,_" she cries.

I laugh.

"Why don't you just show me, Eric? Please! I have wanted it all day, and I don't even know what it is. How very cruel of you."

The perfect smell of her arousal clouds the room with each passing moment. I touch the new silk, seeping my middle finger inside with ease.

"So wet. So warm." Big blue eyes bulge when I taste that finger. "So, so delicious."

"Eric," she gasps. Her back arches away from the bed when I return my finger to her. "You aren't supposed to…"

"Supposed to what? Taste you? Savor you? I thought that you wanted to be mine, Pamela. You do not want that, any more?"

"No, no," she sobs. "I do!"

"Shhh. We don't need your father bursting down the door, do we?"

"_No,"_ she whimpers.

"You promised me that you would be very quiet, Pamela, when we do these things with one another in your room."

"I'm sorry, Eric. I will fix it."

"No need to repair what isn't broken. Listen, my sweet: I am going to do something so, so special to you. You will enjoy it more than anything you have ever experienced in your whole life – but you must be _very_ quiet."

"I will." The tears continue to pour. _"I promise. I promise."_

"It is all right, Pamela. I know you want to be a good girl for me." Taking the nightgown in my free hand, I pull it up to her stomach. I wanted to see what I was about to claim. Circling the bed, I relocate at the side where she has provided ample space for my arrival; I run my nose teasingly along her lovely skin. Kneeling, I rub my hands up her legs, over her knees, and then bring them way back down to her ankles. Her breathing is labored as she awaits my movements. Everything I do is torturously slow for a reason. The anticipation and wonder will do a fine job of arousing her for me without me having to lay another kiss on her. But to abstain from kissing her for the remainder of the night is the very least of my wicked intentions.

"You are going to be so wet for me, tonight." I lean over her to press my lips against her navel, grabbing her waist in my hands as I retreat, bringing her all the way down with me until her bottom rests on the very edge of the bed. "I am certain that you will be able to take all of my cock inside of you. It will be such a perfect fit. I promise."

"You promise?" Her voice is low and angelic.

"I _promise_."

When I look at her, I find that the little snivels have come to a halt.

"Good girl," I whisper. "You have pleased me a great deal by wearing this for me, Pamela. But I need to see you, now. Lift up, my sweet." The moment I push the gown over her nipples, I nibble her breasts, shedding the beautiful garment altogether. When she is nice and bare, legs parted in invitation, toes curling into the bed, I reach up to run my hands over all the soft, round perfections of her little body. "Are you ready, Pamela?"

"_I'm ready."_

"Yes?"

"_Yes."_

Her voice is practically quivering with desire. I take a cool hand to her dewy, pink folds as to rub my palm up and down against her moist ruffles of sensitive, waiting skin. Her engorged little sex bud slips through my parted finger as I drag my hand back and forth, lazily. "Remember how you kissed Lord Maidenholder?" I whisper. The only response I receive is her panting breath as I lower my head, dipping my nose into her. She hiccups a startled, satisfied little sound and whines under her breath when the tip of my nose travels up to her clitoris. I nuzzle it, nostrils flared as they greedily inhale the ambrosial musk of her secretions. With one big, open-mouthed kiss, I cover her entirely. Instantly I put my tongue to its task. It plunges inside of her just as my nose had, fluttering about against the silky sweetness.

"_Er – Er – Eri – ic – ic – ic –cuuuhhhh." _

In all my long life, I have never heard a woman whimper through my name that way. It was an amazing sound; I rewarded her with hasty kisses along her love bead. I devour her. I tongue her. I all but swallow the moist, sugary skin right down my throat. She smells so sweet. She tastes so _perfect_. My lips wrap around her clit and I begin to suckle with gentle, rapid velocity.

"I don't understand, I don't understand," she cries softly. My tongue continues to assault her cunt as it flickers against her needy clit. "Explain it," she whines. "_Please, please, please_. _Please_," she sighs. _"Please."_

Kissing, kissing… I flatten my tongue against her entirely, dragging its lazy, cool surface up and down, up and down.

And down.

"So naughty, Pamela," I whisper before I cover a different, much more constrained entrance with my kiss. She squirms against me as I taste her there, pushing her legs up and apart – far apart – so that nothing is hidden from me. I hear her hitch in a desperate breath; my tongue is too quick. Too exact.

And I am teasing.

Before she becomes comfortable with my attentions toward this extra special naughty place, I slip my tongue back up the trail of dripping arousal, following it, catching each saccharine drop until I am covering her clitoris all over again. I control her trembling, shaking, useless legs in my big hands while I master her. The arousal reaches my eyes, swallowing them whole in a black veil of predatory lust. Knowingly or unknowingly, she bucks against my mouth until her feet snatch back and launch into my shoulders in attempts to kick me away. A frustrated fist claws at the bed sheets in ravenous malcontent. These delicious, new feelings I have given to her are so beautiful, so deep, that she is not satisfied with it ending here. So upset, my Pamela. _So greedy_. I snatch her back to me so that I can taste her cum; she flinches against my tongue and lips and drapes her weak knees over my shoulders in surrender.

"Dangerous, Pamela," I hiss. I cannot stop. My mouth needs more. Instinctively, I gravitate toward the sweet melody of her blood. I nose her inner thigh. _"So dangerous."_ _Whispering, kissing, grazing_ – her tingling skin is so, so sensitive to my little nips.

"Eric," she wheezes.

"You make me want you in a dark and different way, Pamela."

"I want you too," comes her urgent reply. I am sure that she does – but there is no way that she can be capable of understanding my need. "Please, Eric, come inside me. Make love to me, please. _Please_."

"Not tonight."

Scurrying to her knees, she stares me down with icy dissent. _"What?"_ she whimpers. "What do you mean, Eric?"

"Another night, Pamela. I gave you what I promised. I must go, now."

"Eric!" she begs. I look down at her hand. It holds my fingers with fear-driven vigor. "What are you saying?"

Frowning, I stand. The tears that fall are of a different kind, now. She cries, following me to my clothes.

"Why are you doing this?" Sniveling, she grabs for my hand again. I strategically evade it. "Stay with me. Stay the night, Eric, please. We don't have to do anything, just stay with me. I cannot bear being apart. I will not sleep without you, Eric, _why?_"

"Because I will hurt you, Pamela. I need to feed."

"But I have food here," she argues.

"I will not like your food."

Abashed, she blinks at me. I pull my shirts over my head, miffed by her determination to keep me. She does not grasp the concept, because the concept does not exist in her world. If I stay, I will surely drink her. It is not yet time for my plans. I must go.

"Please do not be upset. I must take care of things. Do you think that I will not miss you? Come here, Pamela. Come here; please? Please don't be that way."

Caving, she comes bouncing into my chest. The material of my shirt soaks her tears and muffles her cries.

"We will see each other again very soon. There is nothing to cry about, Pamela; stop this. I will not have it. This is not good bye."

"You promised you would fit all of it inside of me tonight. You said it would be a perfect fit. You _promised_, Eric." The pain in her voice is enough to penetrate my numbed heart.

"Yes, Pamela, but that was before I became so thirsty."

"I thought that you were hungry…"

We eyeball one another through the darkness. The heat of her anger reaches out to cast violent bursts of assault against my colorless aura.

"I cannot explain this to you, Pamela. Not tonight. Listen, darling. There are things about me that make me apart from you. Things I must tend to – without you."

"_Tell_ me, Eric. Share them with me, _please!_"

"Do not make this difficult. It is very hard to leave you, right now. I told you how _dangerous_ that would be for us. Now do you understand, my love? How it makes us want each other so, so badly? Do you understand, Pamela?"

"I understand," she snivels. "I just… I wanted to be with you again, like we were last night."

"As do I, Pamela. You are my perfect, perfect good girl." I bow slowly, controlling the tremble in my lips enough so that she does not feel my angst when I kiss her. "I will make this up to you. Do you forgive me?"

She hesitates, pondering long and hard before giving me the final verdict. Nodding, though her cheeks are wet and the corners of her lips are turned down, she grants my forgiveness.

I do not like it at all, but I must satiate my thirst, elsewhere. It isn't often that I am the prisoner of my accursed blood lust; I have had nearly 900 years of practice, give or take a few decades. Still, I know when not to test my limits. As badly as I'd wanted to stay with Pamela, it would mean risking everything.

I went to the whore whose blood I'd been consuming, filled myself, and flew straight to my mansion in a fit of unsettled nerves. I wasn't very happy, and the members of my nest knew it. They avoided me as I stomped through the white corridor, my reflection rolling off of the tile and marble flooring. A small cry of help emanates from the parlor. With one foot on the stairs, I lift my eyes briefly to the woman exploited. Hungry mouths feast from both sides of her throat, her wrists, and her delicate, dripping inner thighs. A growl rumbles low in my chest. Momentarily, I inwardly decline my curiosity's urge to join – I desire Pamela's blood, which is why the whore did not quench – but it is all I need to discard that notion when a fellow housemate invites me over for a bite. Swaggering into the big, furnished room, I lock eyes with the redheaded victim. Her green irises glow under the wave of her tears. Lazily, I cast my gaze over her naked, broken body, groping the plumpness of her thighs and breasts. The spilled blood smells fresh; she will suffice for tonight.

"Leave us," I hiss. The members of my nest flicker displeased frowns at me, but as the oldest, it is my right to have her to myself if I want. And I do want her.

Scurrying, the younger, stupider vampires disappear. They have sealed a strange woman's fate to the wrath of my thirst – of my _cock_. Scowling, I throw off my tailcoat.

"You will do."


	3. S i g h t

**S I G H T  
**

Two nights passed without paying a direct visit to Pamela. Instead, I follow her parents. I spy on their outings, eavesdrop on their plans. I am especially pleased to find that they will be taking an overnight trip outside of the city to visit a close sister of her mother's. This will leave plenty of nightly privacy to expose myself to my dear Pamela. I have anticipated this. The timing is perfect; Pamela shall become informed of my intentions as soon as I repay her my debt of full, patient lovemaking.

On the fourth night, I arrive at Pamela's door just as she opens it to step out for one of her late and dangerous excursions. The unexpected greeting of my tall frame filling her doorway sends her shrinking back into the black hallway behind her.

"Hello, Pamela."

For a moment, she clenches her bosom. Delicious, wet pulse races in my ears. I contain my smile; she is afraid, and that arouses me.

"Eric," she finally chokes out. "What are you doing here? I mean," she rushes, noting the arch of my eyebrow, " it's been so long…"

"Are you going somewhere?" Stepping inside, I bring my hands from behind my back where I'd held my wrist in one gloved fist. "You are dressed beautifully; if I didn't know better, I would not be as bold to say that you are showing off for another man."

"Eric!"

I eye her through the darkness, enjoying this little game. Pamela is too flustered to consider it a mere tease. She takes me so seriously; she cannot yet understand my dark sense of humor. But she will. The warm night air seeps into the house through the open door, curling against the back of my neck. I breathe it in. A current carries the scent of her blood around the corridor after it rushes under her skin and heats her in a rosy blush that only I can see in this lack of lighting. Clearing her throat, she looks at me with eyes full of shame. Just as I thought: she has been caught in the midst of a very naughty maneuver.

"You are seeing your fiancé?" My hands delve easily into my pockets.

"He has a right to take me out if he wants, Eric. You cannot make me feel guilt for this."

"But of course, Pamela. I am not upset."

"Then you are jealous?"

I laugh from a healthy place in my chest.

"This is absurd!" A fresh mist of tears presents itself in her eyes as she becomes frustrated. "I've done nothing wrong!"

"Is he coming here like a gentleman should? Or are you meeting him, somewhere?"

"I do not think it is appropriate to discuss, Eric, really."

"Tell me," I whisper.

There is a break of silence before she finally admits, "He is… coming by carriage." And then she advances toward me to quickly shut the door. "You shouldn't be here when he comes."

"Are you afraid?"

"_Afraid?"_ she gasps as she picks up her skirts in her hands. "Why on earth…"

"You are afraid that you want to stay here with me. Even though you already have made plans with the man whom you are promised to. Even though you are upset with me, Pamela, for allowing so many days to pass before returning to you."

"I tire of your games," she hisses.

My jaw tightens as I discard my playfulness. "There are no games."

"So what do you call this? You think you can just show up here and I shall drop everything for you? Is that how it works, Eric? I do not think so."

"I never made mention of, nor suggested that you do such things. As a matter of fact, my darling, I encourage you to carry on as you would had I never arrived."

"So you will leave if I do this?" I wet my lips at the panic in her voice. My silence feeds her dread in a very manipulative way. "Eric… But when will I see you, again?"

"Soon, Pamela. I will not disrupt your night's plans."

"But I _missed_ you. And now you are leaving, again, after that awful way you did, before."

"In life, darling, you must enjoy the things that bring you pleasure. It will be good for you to step out of the house and frolic with others. I know you like that."

"And you know that I do not want to marry him," she whispers brokenly. "Yet you are making me go knowing that I want to be with you. You said that you would take me away from him."

I cut my eyes at the door when I feel a presence approaching behind it. From the weight of it, the individual is male. I run my eyes over Pamela's gown and back up to her face where tears stick to her lovely cheeks.

"He is here," I announce with confidence.

"How do you –"

The sound of the knock on the door startles her out of her sentence. She is even more bewildered by my sudden absence when she flickers her eyes toward the thud and back to the space in which I'd been standing only moments ago. Having no other choice, she opens the door. The male immediately reacts to his weeping beloved. I heard the sharp intake of his breath the moment he noticed the wet streaks upon her cheeks coupled with the swell of her beautiful eyes. She hitches in a mouthful of air while preparing a hasty little excuse. I smile knowingly at the top of the stairs when she says, "Nathan, I am not feeling well, tonight."

"What is it, my love?"

"No," she yelps, extending a warding hand when he shifts to step inside. "It is contagious, I believe. I should rest, Nathan. I am sorry, but another night, shall we?"

"Are you sure, Pamela? I could care for you. I understand that your parents are away." Suggestively, he brushes his nose against her cheek. My fangs immediately descend at this.

"I am very tired, Nathanial. I know that you are concerned, but you must allow me rest. I've just made some tea…" Struggling for the perfect words, she grabs at her chest in a nervous fit. It does not take much to make out that she is fingering her necklace, and the moment Nathanial discerns this, he reaches curiously to pick it up in his palm.

"Beautiful," he murmurs. "Where ever did you get this, Pamela?"

"I found it," she quickly retorts. "Good night, Nathan, I really need my rest."

"O – Okay?" Pamela is shutting the door as he is still attempting to understand what has happened. "I shall come to you in the morning to check on your wellbeing."

"Thank you, Nathanial. Again, I am sorry. Good night."

She shuts the door before he can respond in turn. I slip back into the darkness, leaving her to search for me after she fixes the locks. It takes very little time for her panic to evolve into fright. I do not mind, however; the sound of her blood is music to my ears, especially because I will taste it, tonight.

In her quest to find me, she rushes past my shadow in the hallway. I am barely hidden, yet she cannot see me. If I'd wanted her dead, she would exist no more, but I only wish to tease.

"Eric," she whispers timidly. Her head peeks inside of an open room. "This isn't fun for me…"

Oh, but it is – for me. To feel a human's adrenaline pump is like foreplay to the bite. We – my kind – are hunters. We take pleasure in the kill, as well everything that leads up to it. I stalk her as she checks each bed and bathroom, keeping dangerously close. My feet are careful of her dress as it trails behind her, but my nose has brushed her hair on at least three separate occasions. She snatches in needy breaths of air each time she feels my invisible caress. So near, yet so far away.

"_Pamela."_

She follows the sound of my whispering voice only to find herself facing a decorative wall mirror. Spooked by the unexpected image of another being, she flees to her bedroom and slams the door shut. Through it, I can hear her breathing as though she stands directly before me. She hides, but nothing is hidden.

"I can still feel you." My eyes drop to the crack under the door. Her shadow shifts only a little. I could rip the feeble slab of wood from the wall right now and reach out a hand to touch her hair through the empty threshold. "And I know that you are right on the other side of that door. Show yourself to me."

Holding my hands behind my back, I wait. She will open the door when she is ready.

And so she is.

I pull my gaze up her dress and stop right at her full, showcased breasts. "Your ruby does shine very, very brilliantly, tonight. You wore red for me, Pamela. My favorite color." My eyes grope the scarlet silk material of her dress, tracing the gathers, appreciating the lace. "What a _bold_ statement you are making."

"You are frightening me, Eric."

"I know this."

Debating her next choice of words, she steps away from me. "I think that you should leave. I did not expect this, Eric. You are behaving very strangely."

"You and I both know that you don't want that."

"But you are scaring me. How did you do that?"

"Do what, my love?" Taking one large step, I enter her bedroom. "Just a little fun, that is all." I close the door behind me as I begin to undress. "Hide and seek, is it not?"

"Eric…"

Her indecisiveness intrigues me. I watch closely as her eyes wander the tight creases lining my chest and sculpting my bare arms.

"Play time is over for now. I owe you a great deal of pleasure, Pamela. I owe you… a perfect fit. Yes?"

She softens immediately.

"Come closer." We hold each other's stare as she makes her prideful, _brave_ advance forward. There are still tears fresh in her eyes when she stops before me. It is evident that she needs to be made calm. My hand takes her neck and begins to massage the lean muscles it finds there; I stroke and knead, loosening them in preparation for my bite. "That little performance at the door was quite entertaining." Running my nose along her collarbone, I inhale, exhale, and kiss.

"I could not leave you feeling that awful way I felt when you left me," she says. Shivering, she tucks her head into my chest.

"Did I hurt your feelings, Pamela?"

Nodding, she brings her face back up from the shelter near my abdominal muscles. "Yes," she whimpers. "My parents almost didn't leave, they were so worried about me. All I did was sleep during the day, and at night, I would wait by my window for you."

Taking a small step back, I assess what she has just revealed to me. "Yes," I whisper. "You will be perfect for this."

"What ever do you mean, Eric? You are being so cryptic, tonight, and it is giving me a terrible feeling, inside."

"Nothing to fear, sweetheart."

"But I am afraid," she weeps as I return my kiss her throat.

"Do not fear me. I am your Maker. You will trust me a great deal, very soon."

"_What?_" she gasps, and I feel her small hands grip my biceps to remove me, but that is all they do – _grip_. My kiss is the distraction I knew it would be. Mastering the sensitive nerves of the human neck is a skill no vampire needs perfecting.

"Eric," she calls warily, but her head merely slumps against mine as she begins to relax into my attentions. Her hands smooth over my shoulders and up around my neck where she wraps her arms around me, pulling me closer to her as though my back isn't bent enough from having to bow so lowly to meet her. "I have missed you," she breathes.

"As I have missed you, darling." I watch her eyes flutter closed when I bring a lingering kiss to her full lips. "Turn around for me."

She does this slowly, almost seductively, and I immediately begin to work at the little clasps holding her together in this perfect, red cocoon.

"You are so beautiful, tonight," I say against her bare back. "More beautiful than I remember you to be. And in my memories, you were such a goddess." From the way her blood quickens, I am certain that she is amazed by the rapidity of my unclothing her. If such a thing is the case, she does not vocalize it, though I know that it is just another _cryptic_ occurrence of the night she will not soon forget. Gently, I lower the dress past her waist, down her knees, until a fluffy, red mound pools at her feet. She takes my hand when I offer it to guide her out of the crimson mountain. Pounds lighter, my little Pamela begins to calm. I draw her to me carefully as I begin to take my time removing her undergarments; my lips claim her skin where each new slope is revealed.

"Please hurry, Eric." Her request is full of uneven adolescent emotion. I drop to one knee, pulling down her bloomers with ease.

"You know that I like to take my time with you, my sweet. Here," I say softly, lifting one bare leg over my shoulder. "Hold my shoulders."

"My knees are shaking," she reveals with a low, self-conscious giggle.

"I've got you." Licking her navel, I caress the back of her legs, rubbing, rubbing, up over her thighs. She gives a little squeal when my fingers squeeze the warm mounds of her bottom. As I continue to kiss her stomach, my thumbs graze the moist folds of her cunt.

"_What a treat,"_ comes my heavy growl. When she flinches away, I immediately snatch her back to me. "Shhh, no worries, Pamela. No worries, _easy,_ my darling."

She hiccups a helpless moan when I reach my hand between us to delve my fingers inside of her.

"_Good girl,"_ I hiss.

The panic in her voice has completely returned when she asks of me, "Why do you sound that way?" My fingers begin to manipulate that special, tender area she has yet to be introduced to. When she realizes how terribly delicious it feels for me to touch her there, she allows her curiosity to meet its death as she emits a small, dainty cry. I growl again, softer this time, and along the curve of her hip, I treat her skin kindly with my tongue and teeth.

"_Oh my God,"_ she cries.

"Yes, Pamela. Nothing to fear. There is only pleasure with me." Easing in a second finger, I test the elasticity of her walls. Her mews of delight communicate to me what her words cannot. She appreciates my private touch. "Only pleasure," I whisper to her navel. My fingers become needy. When at first, I massaged, I now dig carefully into that hidden patch of skin as to bring her closer to her release. I need to make her cum for me. I need to feel the splash of her orgasm. Not many men know the perfect way to execute this. I take pride in the many, many techniques in which I can make a woman surrender to me. Flicking my fingertips back and forth, I throw out my fangs when she responds with a yelp. Her legs instantly melt, becoming useless; I wrap my free arm around her waist, keeping her steady just as I'd assured her I would.

"You are so close, I promise," I announce. My voice is heavy with sex. She sinks into my fingers as I play with her, shivering against my hand. "So close, Pamela, I know that you feel it building deep inside of you."

"_Yes,"_ she confesses sharply. _"Oh yes, Eric, please help me._ Help me do it._"_

Humming under my breath, I do just that. Pamela explodes. Hard. Overcome with lust, I force my forehead against her stomach just so that she will not see me struggle with my fangs. The only comfort I can bring to myself is the continuous reminder that I will soon fill my mouth with her fragrant blood. That knowledge makes it much, much easier to will my fully emerged fangs away.

"What – what happened?" she stammers. I rise to my feet as I collect her in my arms. "What was that, Eric?"

"So many questions, my love. So many questions."

"But I am curious," she pleads lazily against my chest. Chuckling, I place her on the bed. She sits up on her knees in preparation for my upcoming plans, eying me in a very knowing and womanly way. When I tap beneath her chin, her jaw drops mechanically.

"Such a good girl," I whisper, sliding my sticky middle finger over her tongue. She shimmies closer to the edge of the bed while holding onto my wrist. Once she is settled, I begin my gentle quest to the back of her slippery throat. "Mmmm." I groan huskily against her cheek as I tuck my unbound fingers into her very curly hair to draw our faces together. It is only right that I continue to kiss her skin. She is so well behaved for me. So perceptive – so giving.

"I hope that you agree with me, Pamela, when I say that you taste very, very sweet."

She nods quickly. I _must_ know how much she means it, and she will show me; her hands wrap around my palm to still me as she separately sucks each of my splayed fingers, giving special, doting attention to the two that I'd embedded inside of her.

"So sweet," I murmur against her neck. "You are so, so beautiful, Pamela. I thought a great deal about you in our time apart."

Breaking away, taking in a breath of air, she pauses to ask, "You did?"

"Oh, yes, my love." Her eyes follow my hand when it unravels from her hair to venture down to the center of my pantaloons. When she hurries to take care of the task of releasing my cock, I plant a forceful kiss beneath her jaw, gripping her tiny waist in my palms.

"What did you think of me?" she asks softly. Stepping out of my pants, I grin mischievously at her.

"It was very difficult to keep away from you, Pamela," I begin. I watch her eyes as I climb the mattress. Stalking is a primal act we vampires helplessly engage in. When I corner her at the top of the bed, her blood is coursing with both excitement and fear. "I thought of sneaking into your room late at night while you were sleeping. I would crawl under the bed sheets and open your legs and awaken you with my tongue licking deep inside you."

"_Oh."_ She shudders noticeably.

"Yes," I agree, supplementing my sentiments with a tiny nod. "And I wouldn't stop, dear Pamela, until you were crying with pleasure." Her body arches up against me when I capture her nipple between my teeth.

"_Sss!"_

Pacifying the tender skin, I replace the once forceful sensation with a gentler one. At once, my saliva relieves the small infliction of pain I'd pressed upon her. "Just a little pinch," I whisper to that rosy nipple between my cool, wet kisses. Pamela works to undo the ribbon securing my hair. Once it is free, she digs in her fingers to drag me up to that special, warm space between her ear and shoulder.

"You like this?" My hands feel under the smooth, soft skin of her back as I ease her against me.

"It's so perfect, the way you do it, Eric. I want you in every way. I want to be yours; please make me yours. Take me with you."

"You have no idea what you are asking for, Pamela."

In one swift turn, I roll her on top of me, exchanging positions so quickly that she appears to be quite dizzy from it all. She gasps my name in alarm when I grip beneath her thighs to bring her up into the air and over my mouth. Little hands grip my wrists for stability, but I am very quick in getting her to the flat surface of the wall directly behind my mass of yellow hair.

"_Okay,"_ she stammers, _"Okay. Okay."_ I watch silently as she feels the wall, claiming a small semblance of balance as I hold her effortlessly above my waiting mouth.

"No fear," I remind her. To have such a full and flawless view of her cunt so spread, so open, is a great pleasure to me. "Did you enjoy it, Pamela, when I went lower?" I speak slowly; each wisp of air is a kiss to her pink, dewy skin. It takes a moment to register what it is that I am speaking of, but the instant my Pamela realizes that I am referring to a much more special place than even this one right above me, I know it by the bashful little look on her sweet, innocent face.

"It was very… it was different," she admits warily. "I didn't know that men did that to women."

"But did you enjoy it, is what I asked."

"…Yes."

"A little louder. I couldn't exactly hear you, my sweet."

"I enjoyed it," she undertones.

"Shall I… _service_ you there… tonight?" Her muscles tense in my hands at my forwardness. Chuckling, I lower her onto my parted lips to steal a moist kiss. She quivers above me when my tongue disappears inside that slick little hole. Tasting the delectable essence of her cunt pulls a deep moan from my chest. My senses relish in the many flavors and fragrances that humans create and secrete.

The muscles that build her thighs are flinching in my palms. I give them a comforting squeeze before wrapping my lips around her fully exposed clitoris. She is so open, so available to me. Every wet kiss is full of tongue; I make sure to keep focus on the engorged little tip, directing each flicker of contact straight into her most sensitive parts. It rises and falls with my tongue as it laps at her. Hot, low hisses purr through her teeth above me as I do this. I open my eyes momentarily to seek the source of these sounds. The possessiveness of my gaze gropes at her smooth belly and trails over her round breasts until it brushes against her throat before resting upon the fixed expression of bliss on my Pamela's young face.

She becomes comfortable with the predictable velocity of my attentions; I alter them just a little, and when I begin slowly suckling her needy sex bead, her frustration radiates without limit.

"_Not that way,"_ she pleads under her breath. Our eyes lock hastily as we attempt to communicate through these sexy moments in silence. She draws a sharp breath of air in her attempts to relax into my ministrations. My tongue is so relaxed – so patient, when my Pamela is not. I force her to yield to those long, deep strokes. Mimicking a feline in heat, I lick hungrily. Eventually, she accepts this, and when she realizes that she may participate in reaching her climax, she wriggles against my attentions as to claim the dark and luscious warmth that I'd filled her with during my previous visit. Suckling the nub, I begin to pander to her _puss_ the way she so deeply desires, as she is very much displeased with me for holding out on her in such an unkind fashion. The feverish manner in which she grinded her hips against my mouth did not bring much relieve to her ache. Lowering her out of the air and onto my mouth, I bury my tongue inside. Impaled by this soft, warm, demanding muscle, Pamela locks her knees around my face in appreciation.

"_Yes," _she whines. "_Yes… yes… oooooo!"_

My hands roam her backside as her coos caress my ears. They explore the crease in between before reaching the curve of her hips. Massaging there, I shake my mouth against her cunt. Pamela pants as her back bends in the midst of this perfect, perfect pleasure. She rests her cheek against the wall, weak and dizzy with naughty feelings stirring about inside of her. Hungrily, my fingers reach up to the tips of her breasts to knead the erect tilts of her rosy nipples. Pamela's responsiveness to my affectionate gesture is quite tangible; her body jerks against me in need of me to give her more – to complete her. I give a soothing kiss to the wet beginnings of her sweet and secret passageway. Soon. Very soon, I will claim it.

_No rush… No rush…_

Digging my heels into the bed, I give one short pull; the small, sudden shift lowers me just enough so that my kiss slips to that warm place between her plump little ass.

"Go back," she pleads. Emerging from the warmth, I cast my eyes up at her.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to kiss me back where you first kissed me."

Grinning, I explore her back with my fingertips. "And where is that?" I whisper. My nose barely grazes the little ball of her sex in teasing.

"You know where it is," she breathes bashfully. "You are touching it, Eric."

"Oh, but you must say it to me, my sweet."

Simpering, she averts her vision. I follow her gaze to the moon outside the window. My ability to weigh the time of night through its location in the sky tells me that it is something close to nine. She stares through that window, her heart knocking so loudly at the door of my consciousness that I must find a way to reclaim her attention.

"_Eric, I want you to kiss my cunt."_ Touching her thighs, I give a firm squeeze to the shores of her femoral arteries. Which I will sink my teeth into, I have not yet decided. "_I want you to suck it and lick it and fuck it _– say that to me."

"_Eric!"_ she gasps in abashment. "I am a lady!"

"Are you afraid to voice your desires to me, Pamela?" Pressuring her into this, I slide her away from my shoulders where she'd just been straddling my face. "Can you not say the words?"

Panicking, she climbs to her knees.

"It's just," she begins hastily, reaching for me, "I've never spoken in such a manner, Eric. I am… shy."

Sighing disapprovingly, I drop to the floor beside the bed, ultimately blocking out the moon and any light that she'd once sought comfort in within the small room. Her discomfort is escalating. I would like to taste her fear.

"You're so big, Eric…" From the waving tones of her voice, I can detect her distress toward this. "Come back in bed, please. I will say it."

"I am listening." Mischievously, my lips crack into a smirk.

"Won't you come to bed, first? So that I can say it softly… in your ear?"

Bellowing with laughter, I fold my arms over my chest. "You cannot outsmart me, Pamela. I will not return… until you say the words."

Kissing her teeth, she melts into herself.

"It is just you and me, here. No one to hear you… Say the words, darling, and I will give my mouth to you. Say them," I coax softly. _"Eric, I want you to kiss my cunt."_

Shutting her eyes, she shakes her head in disgust. _"Eric,"_ she begins.

"_I want you…"_ I guide her. "Open your eyes."

"_I want you,"_ she repeats in a bashful whisper as her gaze reaches my own.

"What do you want from me, lover?" My eyes catch her tongue as it wets her lips in preparation for the naughty words that will slip through them. Maybe this will make the dialogue easier to speak. They will simply slip right through and into my ears… "Tell me," I whisper.

"To kiss my… cunt," she chokes out. I smile greedily and lean over the bed to rest my hands against its plush surface.

"Say it like you mean it. Say it like you want it _badly_, Pamela. Do you want it badly?"

"_Yes."_ She nods her head frantically at this. Her bottom lip begins to waver as I brush my nose against her cheek.

"Tell me what you want me to do to that tight little hole, Pamela. Say it to me."

"_I want you to kiss my cunt,"_ she whimpers.

"Yes?"

"Yes, _please._"

"Ah, but you are not finished. There is more, Pamela; do you remember it?"

"I remember, but don't make me say it," she begs.

"But you _will_ say it." Sweeping my lips over her shoulder, I reach a hand down between her legs. She gasps and allows for me to sink two long fingers inside. Growling under my breath at the wealth of warm, sticky fluid, I bring my fingers to my mouth to suck them dry. "I desire it, Pamela, and you are keeping something from me that I want _desperately_. Tell me what you want me to do to it. _I will do it._"

"_I want you to suck it and lick it and…"_ Biting her lip, she buries her face in my chest to hide. I pull away just enough to force her upright, again.

"_Fuck_ it. Say that word: _fuck._"

I watch her as she tries, however, each time her lips part to articulate the syllable, she refrains from it. In all honestly, it makes my cock bleed. Vampiric pre-ejaculate emerges from my foreskin. I cluck my teeth at her. She has disappointed me.

Kneading the head, I brush away the red bubble strategically before rising to my full height. "Put my cock in your pretty mouth, Pamela, while you think about what you just did."

"I'm sorry," she winces. Her hands absently play in her hair as she assesses her punishment.

"No need to apologize, my sweet. Here: tell Lord Maidenholder what you cannot tell to me."

Nodding, she quickly obeys. I rest my hands on my hips as I look down at her. When her mouth covers my cock, I grind my jaw and swallow deeply. It is a great pleasure to receive this attention.

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she says in her most gentle voice. "Eric wants me to say such dirty things."

"There is nothing dirty about me fucking you," I interject. "You do not want that?"

"_I do,"_ she pleads.

"Tell me that you want to be fucked, Pamela. Be a _naughty_ girl with me."

Grabbing her hair in my hands, I guide her mouth around my circumference, filling her with the tool that will bring her ultimate pleasure.

If she accepts it.

Pulling away, I allow her the chance to speak. "What do you want?" I ask.

"I want you to fuck me. Eric, please…" She lifts her eyes to me in a pitiful way. They are misty and slacked with unease. I breathe in her humiliation as I carefully flip her over onto her stomach and lift her by the waist until her bottom is completely raised in the air. She adjusts her knees until she is comfortable in this new position, slightly ashamed to be exposed in such a way, though somewhat excited and curious underneath. I spread her thighs until I can see the sweet treasure between them. She snivels somewhere up there on the bed, recovering from her exploitation.

Crawling up in between her – I am much too tall to do this standing – I grip my cock in my hand. She hiccups when I direct my member to that silken opening. The surrounded skin is moist with her secretions. I push inside, sinking my fingers into her hips.

"I thought that – I thought that you were going to kiss me there," she complains.

"You did not do as I asked when I asked it of you, Pamela. But you will enjoy this very much."

"I –"

"_Shhhh_." Concentrating, I sink into the depths of that warm, soft place. Her mood instantly changes as she reacts to this new sense of fullness. "You remember that, don't you?" I whisper. "Don't you, Pamela?"

"_Yes,"_ she gasps. I withdraw slowly, teasingly, before diving in, again – deeper, now. I watch her body as it reacts to my testing of its endurance. Stroking her, I bury myself further than I had, before.

This is new territory.

One hand claws at the bed sheet. She grips it to her, hugging it as she devotes her full attention to experiencing me.

"Does it hurt when I do that?" My hips thrust forward to press against the front of her cervix. I am completely embedded – at least as far as her previously virgin walls will allow me to venture.

"No…" she answers cautiously.

"_Mmm."_

Pulling away and returning, I fill that needy space again.

And again.

"Don't worry, Pamela," I murmur. "I will make you fit to me very soon."

"But how?" she whines.

"I will stretch you each time I fuck you. Making the way I fit inside of you even more perfect – every time. Until you can take all of me."

She nods her head, finished with this talking nonsense. My little Pamela only wants to feel. Gripping her as to hold her still, I increase my momentum behind her. This pace is very, very moderate, but quicker than anything she'd experienced during our first night together. I relish in the sounds of her breathing as it becomes labored under the weight of her building pleasure.

"Faster?" I confirm. "Harder? Can you take it, Pamela?"

"_I can take it."_

"_Good girl,_ sweetheart." I smile as I give her these things, watching her writhe and buck against me each time I brush that secret place deep inside. She reaches back to touch me, in need of such intimate contact. Contemplating the hand, I finally decide to seize it behind her. My fist secures both wrists at the small of her back as I begin to pound what I have made mine.

"_Oh my God,"_ she wails.

"Are you taking it, Pamela?" The sounds of us smacking together are a ballad to my ears.

"_Oh, yes, Sir. Yes, Sir,_" she assures me. I chuckle at this.

Fucking her brings out my fangs. I allow them to come; they will be needed very soon. Groaning behind her, I reach down with my free hand to finger her hair. She cries to me and spreads her legs. This is a treat; I ease inside with a newfound ease.

"Are you glad that your parents are away so that I am allowed to fuck you like this?" I ask in her ear. She nods against the bed as I completely cover her back, resting my elbows against the mattress above her head. Humping her, I never miss a perfect beat. She gives herself to me, allowing me this all-encompassing control.

When I leave her body empty and dependant of me, she lifts herself dizzily to look back at the man who has abandoned her. I lie on the bed, stretching out on my back. Warily, she follows.

"See, Pamela?" I help her onto my lap, our eyes trapped in one another. "It is so natural, what we do."

"I want you…"

Biting my lip, I ease her down onto my cock. This new sense of depth tugs a low growl from my chest. My hands seek her waist as I help her down. The thick girth of my shaft impales her; she squeals.

"_Easy,"_ I whisper. "Keep your feet flat on the bed. Yes, just like that. Good girl, Pamela. Now I want you to do something very important," I tell her.

"_Yes?"_

"Keep your legs spread just that way, no matter how good and deep it feels."

"I'll keep them spread," she promises. _"Eric."_

"Yes, my dear?"

"I feel that feeling."

"_Mmm,_ that is nice, Pamela. Do you like it?" I caress her waist as I keep her steady above me. Gradually, I drive my cock into her with a different speed. This velocity is demanding and assertive. My hips thrust upward and back, in and out. With each plunge, she requires more and more of my assistance in keeping those legs wide apart.

"_Oooooo,"_ she cries. _"Errriiiiccc!"_

I steady myself inside of her as she cums, gripping her in my palms. Leaning over me, she pants feverishly against my lips as she seeks a kiss. I grant her wishes; my mouth steals her tongue as my own delves inside.

"Hold onto my neck," I tell her. She does this as my hands roam her back, down, down, over her fluffy mounds, around her thighs. I maneuver the bent shape of her legs, encircling her ankles, before finally wrapping her in my arms to hold her close while I complete our fucking.

She whines in my ear; her face is buried in the side of my neck, and each delicate moan feeds my sense of sound. Each moist, sticky echo of my cock taking her cunt brings me closer and closer to my necessary release. I concentrate solely on this feeling – of my body ramming her like a bison dominating a small fawn. I ravage her. I force the shape of that special, special place to yield to me. Stuffing my cock inside of her in such a _dangerous_ way is a sweet and satisfying indulgence.

"_Pamela,"_ I hiss under my breath. "I am going to release inside of you."

Her response is a sharp gasp. She nods at this, consenting to my lifeless seed. I clutch her to me at once. My eyes clench and my jaw tightens as I ejaculate my essence.

We pant against one another in recovery. I kiss her face, under her jaw, seeking her neck forcefully. Her airy inhalations fill the clouded room. Our sex permeates the very air that she breathes.

"Do not be afraid, Pamela," I whisper against her throat. The tips of my fingers soothe her as I speak to the throbbing vein within her throat. "You are going to awaken very weak, tomorrow, but I will be here. I will protect you."

"_What?"_ she sighs. The stupor of our intimacy has yet to unleash her.

"You want to be mine, yes?"

"I do, Eric. I do, I want to be yours." She lifts from my neck to look at me. "Why do you sound this way, Eric? You are frightening me, again."

"Shhh," I croon to her. Arching my neck, I bring myself up to her lips to kiss them. "Do you want to be with me, Pamela? Forever?"

"I want to be with you." She nods with certainty as big, wet tears pool over her cheeks. "I want to be yours. Forever."

"I can do that… if you trust me."

"I trust you," she stammers. "I trust you."

My strategy in keeping my lips close together while speaking has concealed my fangs successfully. The need for such secrecy has ceased and ends now. Tomorrow morning, I will show her the true Eric Northman. Kissing her once more before I gravitate toward her throat, I nuzzle the skin that will promise her to me forever.


	4. A Bit of Housekeeping

To all my lovely readers, I am proud to announce that the _**Fangreaders Chat Room**_ has chosen my darling _Sweet Inception_ to be discussed in their Group Chat on **19th of Feb at 9pm GMT (4pm EST)**. If you would like to join in on my discussion of _Sweet Inception_ in the Fangreaders Chat Room on the 19th Feb, **please email to fangreaders (at) gmail (dot) com for your invite**.

(Please request an invite before the 18th of Feb. - wouldn't want you dolls to get left out. ;-))

* * *

In just completing "Drastic Possibilities" a few days ago, "Sweet Inception's" parent, I finally have the time to complete this mini! Look out for the next chapter!


	5. S o u n d

With my Fangreaders chat less than four hours away, I am just posting the fourth chapter. Better late than never, right? I have been struggling to do this for the last two weeks in preparation for this exciting day, and I can proudly pat myself on the back for getting it out there. To those who will be in attendance, I cannot wait to have sweet, lemony word exchanges with you. Enjoy!

_(Small whisper: Also, I started blogging. I am addicted to it, already. You can find me at http:/ theevirgoian . wordpress . com/ - just connect the dots. ;-))_

* * *

**S O U N D**

Pamela stirs awake. The sheets tangle around her bare legs, as the sleeping gown I'd dressed her in has risen up to her stomach, consequently leaving her flesh exposed to my wandering eyes. And judging the intemperate way she writhes against her pillow, any passing stranger may well note the discomfort riddling her used little body. I float silently to her side, but I am quick in my stealth. Pamela flinches away from my hovering shadow the unexpected instant it snakes over her.

I pull her upright like a puppet, manipulating her blood. She whimpers at this. Unable to defend herself from my control, the girl begins to weep.

"Pamela." The silken command of my voice draws her immediate attention. Wet, curious eyes turn up to me. The paradoxical glow of terror and bliss stir my arousal; she needs me, but does not understand how it is possible to desire someone who has hurt her.

"Do you still want me?" I murmur. "Do you wish to be mine, Pamela? Forever?"

Tears spill into the creases of her lips. "What is the right answer?" she asks shakily. I trace the plump curves of her mouth with my thumb before bringing it to my tongue to taste her feelings.

"Certainly not that," I quip. A helpless, fanged grin stretches across my face. She blinks in alarm when I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand, hissing through her teeth. "But your response, my sweet, predicates the manner in which I will allay your discomforts."

I take a seat on the edge of the bed beside her. My eyes flicker to the window; it has already begun to glow cerulean behind the treatments, warning of the spiteful haste in which the sun rises.

Finally settling upon a decision, she replies, "I want to be yours, Eric. But I don't understand it. Please don't punish me. I cannot bear the thought…"

She has amused me. _"Punish you?"_ I laugh. "So innocent, Pamela, but it is all right. There will be no punishing, this time. In fact, you were such a brave, good girl when I did that to you that I will have something very special to share with you when you awaken, again." Releasing her blood, I beckon her to come closer with the simple gesture of my fingers. "Do you understand why I left you that night?" She nods frantically as she rushes to close the space between us. Sitting on her knees, she touches my lips with inquisitive fingertips.

"Are you a demon of some sort?" she gasps mysteriously. I kiss her fingers. Leave it to my little wildflower to enjoy the idea of such drastic possibilities.

"You can say that, Pamela. I require blood to sustain my immortality – I am a vampire. You've heard of this," I assure her. She nods again, entirely open to me, now.

"Can…" I watch her hesitate as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. "Can you do it again?" she asks lowly. My eyes darken at once as I remember the clean, sweet taste of her blood. Pulling her against me, I sniff the blond tendrils of hair.

"Don't be coy."

"I do not wish to upset you, Eric. You've been miffed with me quite often, tonight – have I done something wrong?" Her glassy eyes search mine hopefully.

"No, Pamela," I gently retort. Pushing her hair over her shoulder, I seek the small wounds I've pressed into her pretty throat. "I was only teasing. I enjoy playing with you." My hand slips up the break of her legs until I am close enough to finger the soft tuft of hair. "I enjoy making you into my little _whore_."

She flinches at my words, but I am knotted around her in such a possessive way that the subtle flicker of struggle merely causes her to sink deeper into my hold. With one hand gripping her delicate neck and the other embedded between her lovely thighs, I am in perfect control. _"Whore?"_ she snivels.

"_Yes,"_ I hiss. "My sweet little innocent _whore_."

Her body collapses into mine in its display of her physical response to being so emotionally wounded. Melting, she clenches her thighs around my wrist. My fingers continue to molest the moist little hole, fingering it deeply with calculated velocity.

"You think – you think of me this way?" she stammers. It is sexy to see her so devoted to her objection of this while enjoying my attentions so openly. Her knees sink into the bed as she leans into my fingers. Wobbling on weak, bent legs, my little Pamela releases a betraying moan.

"Look at you," I purr against her face. "Wanting to cum, already. You think that you are not a whore in behaving this way, Pamela?" I kiss the fang marks on her throat before pulling away to search her dewy eyes with my slanted, darkening ones. "You are so lovely when you shiver in my hands. So dangerously lovely, my sweet. Here; hold on to my shoulders."

She does this, all the while locked in the magic of my gaze. My glamour is gentle, yet powerfully persuasive. Sleepily, her lashes lower; a drunken giggle bubbles from her lips as our noses brush.

"Kiss me," she whispers giddily. "On my mouth."

Smiling, I attach my lips to hers.

"With your tongue," she adds in an even smaller voice. I fulfill the tiny request with pleasure, as well. Our tongues brush in a wet, warm caress while I coax her orgasm to cascade past my fingers, down my wrist… Fingernails press into my shoulders as she devours the delicious feelings curling up deep inside of her.

"I feel," she pants. Fists grip my hair; the pulse under her youthful skin parades against my kiss. "I feel…"

Chuckling, I suck my fingers before slipping her into my lap. The nightgown's failure to conceal her pretty little legs persists. Curiously roaming the curves under her skirt, I nuzzle her neck. Pamela is so sweet, so virginal, but in spite of that, willing and eager to be my naughty little girl.

"I want to feel them," she breathes. "Let me see, Eric. Please."

"You want to see?" I croon against her fingers. "You want to feel them, Pamela? Pressing against your skin?" A lazy moan ripples from her lips when my enchantment floods through her eyes much heavier than before. I settle myself comfortably inside of her before allowing my fangs to lower behind my lips.

"_Yes,"_ she pleads, fingering my lips where the prints of my thick canines lay underneath. "Make me feel them, Eric. I want to feel your bite."

Growling, I press my kiss to her throat. The sharp points of my fangs cut through her skin with ease. They sink slowly, opening her up just for me.

"_Ouch!"_ she yelps. Her hands squeeze desperately at my arms, but I collect her closer as I drink, gripping her little body possessively. The sip is small and harmless. Any vampire would consider it a tease – a mere _appetizer_. To my little Pamela, however…

"We will try again," I whisper huskily against her cheek. Blood sticks to her blushing flesh; the heat wafting between us is intoxicating.

"_Again?"_ she whimpers.

"It will feel much, much sweeter, Pamela, if you slow down."

"But it is so awful, Eric."

Releasing a dramatic gasp, I grin at the flustered little girl in my arms. _"Awful?"_ I muse. "But you _begged_ for it, Pamela, knowing how dangerous it would be for you when you solicited me for my bite."

"I thought I'd liked it, before." She shakes her pretty head as big, wet tears spill from the slacked, blue eyes that are still very much in my hold. "Maybe I didn't…"

"Ah…" I cup her bottom in my hands. "My darling, it is quite possible to experience two considerably dissimilar sensations at once."

"It is so… So…" I play with the remnants of red, sugary silk veiling my tongue as she scrambles for the most fitting words to communicate her thoughts to me.

"I know that it is such an awful, delicious thing. But it can be _even more perfect _if you relaxed."

Steadying herself through the sparkly tears that fragment her vision, she nods in assent and swallows.

"So sweet, Pamela. Shhh, I am not upset. Let us try, again, and remember to relax when I kiss you."

"Do you promise that I will like it?" Hot little mewls of anticipation vibrate against my lips when I touch them to hers.

"No more talking," I whisper. "No more talking, Pamela." My lips trail her throat, smearing the blood frothing from the delicate wounds. Each time I press them against her lovely skin in search for the most special patch of emptiness to sink my teeth into, she anxiously jerks in my arms. Her heart is beating wildly; the wet, healthy sounds beg for me to make us one, again. Delving my fangs into the creamy base of her throat, I drink the sweetest part of her. It is even sweeter than her once virginal cunt. Clean blood – young blood – is an aphrodisiac to the undead. I must tame the frenzy that is building deep down in my chest, as it is possible that I may tear her and hurt her unintentionally if I give in entirely to my demon.

These swallows are fuller. The sips have grown to be gulps as I take long pulls on her blood, finally allowed to follow through with my plan. It is time to make Pamela mine. Completely mine. With no human interferences keeping us apart. I will take her away with me once she has risen from the soil. A mortal life must end to allow for a more precious existence to begin.

Ah – _creating_. I have never been a Maker. The continuity of a vampire depends wholly on its ability to blend, which the younger ones have extreme difficulty in doing. New power is addicting; many have fallen in their first weeks due to their bloodlust. Conspicuousness is a sure way to get staked. For that, I have never seen the pleasure in risking the disclosure of the both of us had I turned a human in my past. I very much enjoy my life – however _undead_ it may be.

Hunters anticipate such slipups, but I am a vampire of very old age, now. It goes without saying that I have mastered many skills in my time, all of which I equip regularly to keep myself safe. I have the experience to mold and shape whomever I choose to bring over. And I have chosen Pamela. I will make her into my image. I will show her what it is like to _live_.

Carefully loosening my fangs from her pretty neck, I kiss the marks with affection as the lengths of my fangs disappear. "Much better, Pamela," I whisper. Expectedly, she sags against me. Her worried snivels are faint, but present, nonetheless. Steadying her in my arms, I heal the wounds - the only evidence of my presence - with my saliva. Our eyes catch in the fading darkness; she blinks, but the glamour has been entirely fixed.

"I have something very special planned for you when you rise," I speak softly, "but you will sleep, now, my darling."

A feeble sound emerges in response. I touch her lips with mine, nuzzling her face.

"_Sleep,"_ I encourage her when she manages to mumble my name. "Dream, dear Pamela. Dream of all the dangerous, delicious, _awful_ things I did to you, tonight." At that, she wilts in my hold, a flower heavy under the weight of wind and rain. I allow for it, and for her head to fall to my shoulder when I stand. With care, I tuck the light blankets around her, bowing low to her ear to say my good byes.

Before the sun has completely risen and the room is yellow with light, I drink Pamela's life into my own, merging us with blood, stripping the color from her doll-like face. Not a drop of crimson stains her. Having taken great care to be neat, I have successfully staged a natural death. Nathanial, whom I'd visited with at the local brothel in my time away from Pamela, played an exceptional role. I planted the entire outing he was to take with his fiancée in his mind; I simply had to arrive, first, and the rest was so very easy. He will tell her parents of her sudden illness. He will sob and weep over his beloved, as he will imagine that had he been there with her, had he fought with her to let him inside to care for her, that he could have saved her.

I smile to myself. There is no saving what I have my soul set on, and my claws sank deep in Pamela. She was so loyal, so trusting of a stranger, more so than her own betrothed. He could never have her in the ways that I have had her; in the many ways I plan to have her. He could never imagine the feel of a woman submitting to him the way Pamela will always, _always_ submit to me.

_Always._

The closet keeps out the harmful rays; I fold myself inside under a pile of quilts and yield to the demands of my curse. When I awaken, the house is silent. Where my precious Pamela once lay lifeless, the bed is made and covered with assortments of lovely bouquets and loose petals. I pocket those from the red rose and disappear out of the window.

The soil of Pamela's grave is soft – pliable. I squeeze it in my fingers before allowing it to sift back to the earth. It is my duty to lie with her, so I do. In a blur, I dig out the casket, remove her frozen body, and replace the space with a girl similar in size. Once the box is fit back in its place, Pamela and I rest atop it. Her tiny frame fits within mine like it was made to do it. We sleep between dirt and wood.

On the third night, I stir against Pamela's writhing body. She is fighting; I must remove us, quickly. The soil is tougher, this time, as it has been allowed to settle. For a human, this would be quite annoying, but for me…

I have Pamela seated on the grass in a small elapse of time. The frightened new vampire watches in both terror and awe as I lay the dirt back over its grave, packing it just right; no one will ever know that we've been here. When I turn to my progeny, she backs away, crawling frantically through the grass without a proper set of eyes behind her head to direct her. A bare foot catches in the fabric of her simple gown. I conceal my laugh when she trips herself, falling over onto her side.

I lower down beside her, and I know that there is something reassuring in the way I look at her by the sudden death of her once frantic scurrying. We stare. Even with the dirt clinging to her skin and hair and nightgown, she remains a portrait of perfect beauty.

"You are so lovely," I murmur. The back of my knuckle brushes sepia dust from her cheek. She stares at me with those dewy blue eyes, expecting me to make it better. I know that she is thirsty; she just doesn't understand it, yet.

Warily, she breaks from my gaze, eying the vast burial ground surrounding us. "What… What happened, here?" she stammers. I lift her chin, disallowing her from inspecting the soiled silk dress hugging her new body. "I feel… I feel differently, Eric. I smell…" She sniffs the air. I watch curiously at the play of her nose as it guides her to my mouth. "I smell…" Touching my lips, she attempts to brush away the dirt sticking to them. Her fingertips push and prod, running over teeth and tongue. A delighted moan interrupts the night. She tastes her filthy fingers, licking them in a desperate attempt to capture the essence of the girl who now lies in place of her.

"What _is_ it, Eric?" she whines. I kiss her fingers when they return. "It smells most delicious, and I want to have more."

"Be patient," I chide lightheartedly. "Are you ready to come home with me, Pamela? Are you ready to _learn?_"

"_Learn?"_ she whispers guardedly. I nod my head, leaning closer in my squatting position with inhuman balance.

"Yes. Learn."

"I want to learn," she answers breathily, her voice a brush of whatever a cloud must feel like in its supple, wet perfection. She swallows my lips with desperate kisses, and if not for our exposure and suspicious, dirty appearances, surely I would ravage her right here between_ Here Lies He and She._

I gather Pamela in my arms and take off in flight. We slice through warm sky and land again in what any earth-bound creature would call a single second. Chuckling, I steady her on the ground. She is shaken by the means of transportation it took for us to get here, and very, very silent when I push her through the threshold of the private, temporary dwelling I have purchased for her and myself while she settles into her new skin. Upon entering, I catch scent of the tasty little morsel of human girl that I left awaiting my return. Mouth watering at the mere thought of fresh blood pouring over my tongue and down my throat after several nights of fasting, I wet my lips and encourage control on my part. I must prepare Pamela in the kindest, most patient manner.

Low, animal purrs expel from my newborn. She breathes them, sniffing the air for her food. "This way," I guide her, taking the hesitant hand at her side into my own. Fingers lock between mine in trust. We come to the bathroom, where the tub has been filled with lukewarm water prior to our arrival. She rejects the misty smell of hazardous liquid instantly, as she is instilled with natural vampiric instincts to reject the hydrogen-oxygen compounds. I shut the door behind us when she spins to escape what she thinks to be danger.

"You want to learn," I remind her. Eyes plead with me for shielding. "You want to learn, remember?"

Nodding, she whispers what I already know and expect. I smile a fangless grin, a small offering of comfort, before easing her out of the dirtied gown.

"It will be unpleasant, in the beginning. But you will adapt. I am going to submerge you into the bath, just for a moment. Do you trust me?"

The smooth tones of my voice are pleasant to her; she consents right away, feeling that I mean no harm.

"Good, Pamela. I see that you are already discovering. So perceptive…" I lift her under the arms and proceed to lower her toward the reflective pool. It waits for her, so still and steady, promising to be tender to her curled little toes. "It will be best if you do not struggle. That's it, Pamela. Just shut your eyes…"

Between sharp hisses, wriggles of displeasure, and underdeveloped growls, she is pressed against the floor of the bathtub by the temperate grip of my large hand around her slender throat. I hold her still without much effort at all as her nails scratch at my fingers and her legs thrash in a fury while water invades her flaring nostrils. She fights and screams before she can accept that I am unmoving and cannot be overpowered. Bubbles float from her mouth. They echo her cries, mingling with red tendrils of tears. I force her to lie there until she realizes that she cannot drown, and when she finds that the water flows fluidly through her lungs and out into the bath without suffocating her, she quiets.

"Perfect," I commend. Slowly dragging her from the bath, I seek her eyes, immediately. Pamela expels the water with frantic coughs until each translucent drop trickles past her trembling lips.

"_Why?"_ she whimpers. Her body shivers with fear as I wrap it in linen to soothe the raised, reddened inclines of her beautiful skin.

"I must teach, you, Pamela," I inform her softly. She parts her lips to speak, but gasps when her eyes catch the instant healing of her flesh. "See? It is not so bad to be this."

Gradually relaxing and appreciating my touch, the new vampire shuts her eyes against my chest when I rise to pat her hair. I can hear the continuous rattle of bloodlust between us. She is thirsty; I must tend to this at once.

When she is dry, I help her into a sleeping gown far more elaborate than the one she had so recently been buried in. She fawns over the glittering silk and beading, running her fingers over the lovely stitching that decorates her full breasts. I can feel her distraction. It is a wonder that she has so quickly forgotten the gnawing, flaming sensation tickling her throat. An anticipant grin plays at my lips. I imagine what she will be like when she discovers the two very heavy canines that are soon to expose themselves to her.

"You like nice things," I note. My eyes follow the attentive trails of her fingers.

"Oh, yes," she sighs. "It is so beautiful, Eric. You are so generous and kind to me. Are we lovers, now?"

My small laugh touches her cheek when I lean to kiss it. "We are many things."

"Do you love _me?_"

I withdraw from her, catching the warmth and innocence of her harmless inquiry. "How can I not, Pamela?" I answer sincerely. She closes her eyes when I rest my lips on her forehead. It is then that I know that I will forever spoil her. No matter what she may do to miff me, I will always care for her this way. And I will probably never say the words, but she will know it, and I will know it. I will love her deeply, as deep as any love can run. We are tied, now. Bound together by some sort of magic, the promise to always know and feel. Should we separate, I will miss her. But I have just gotten her, and have no intention of us parting, so soon.

"You are thirsty," I chuckle when she grabs for my cock in a passionate fever. She manages to lick my tongue once more before I remove myself.

"_Thirsty?"_ she whines. "But I want to have sex, now, Eric."

I touch her hair. "All a reaction to you being so thirsty," I inform her. She lays her hand over mine when it cups the side of her face. "Are you ready for your next lesson, Pamela?"

"Oh, I am not sure, Eric." Fear trickles between us immediately, and all prior lovingness vanishes. The glassy frown of her eyes also tells me of her fear, as she is still very much human and cannot ignore the powerful amplification of her emotions.

"I promise that you will like this very much, Pamela. There will be no more frightening things, tonight. It is time for us to enjoy ourselves. You want that, yes?"

Giving it a bit of thought, she finally nods up at me. "We will enjoy one another?" asks her curious little voice.

"Oh, yes, Pamela." I smirk – helplessly. She is so faultless. "I am rather eager to sink myself into you, again. Will you come with me, now? Do you trust me, tonight, my dear? Many new things away you."

Eagerly, she wraps her arms around one of mine and snuggles it. "I trust you every night," she muses.

Ah – what it is like to be young. I lead her out of the bathroom, where the wet smells of her bath have seeped outside into the parlor, and inside a larger room – our bedchamber – where we will begin our first night together as Maker and childe. At once, she takes in the pretty thing at the center of the bed, groping it with her eyes in attempts to make out what it is and why it is here. Desire and confusion and need flares through her. I draw her close to me for assurance as I secure the door behind us.

"Pamela…" I latch my hungry gaze onto the bejeweled human girl. "Meet Sophia."


	6. Good byes

Hello, old faces and new ones, alike. Hope you're all doing extremely well. This will be short and not-so-sweet: I'm no longer going to be posting Fan Fiction. DM me for contact information if you want to follow my blog and/or email me. I hope to hear from you!

- Erica


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